


Miss Medda's Home for Peculiar Children

by GodsHumbleClown



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs, Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 27,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodsHumbleClown/pseuds/GodsHumbleClown
Summary: In New York City, July 30, 1899.Every day happens the same.Yet, amid the sameness, is a little peculiarity.NOTE : Updates are currently on hold, as I am having serious trouble with deciding how I want this story to go. I'm very sorry to anyone who has been reading, and I would appreciate any suggestions at @maggs-is-a-muppet on tumblr, or just to talk through plot points.I'm *hopefully* going to complete this at some point, but it's on a bit of a back burner at the moment while I focus on projects that are coming easier.I might just scrap this version and start over, with less characters so I'm not so overwhelmed. Let me know what you think!
Comments: 82
Kudos: 110





	1. Peculiar

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children AU featuring the Newsies kiddos. 
> 
> I have NO clue where I'm going with this at all!  
> Enjoy!

When David Jacobs woke up every morning, he had a system. 

He rolled out of bed, pulled on socks, and then went downstairs to set his brother up with breakfast. 

The system was important, he told himself, because if he didn't follow the system, who knew what would happen? 

He made absolutely sure, on the way to the stairs, to not even give a passing glance to the door on the left of his bedroom, closed and locked for the past three years. 

He told himself it had  _ always _ been locked, that no key existed, and there had never been a girl with brown hair sleeping behind the door, knocking on the wall in a secret code only they two understood. 

That part of his life had never happened. 

He had no sister, just a brother, who was currently about to set the kitchen on fire attempting to cook eggs. 

"Les, let me help you," David said, hurrying over to the stove.

"Morning David!" Les said cheerfully, waving a spatula in David's face. 

"Mom and Dad left for work, so I'm making breakfast."

As if Mom and Dad leaving for work at the crack of dawn was somehow unusual, and David wasn't the one to always make breakfast for them. 

David wasn't going to say any of that to Les, though. 

"Thanks, Les. How about I finish this while you get dressed?"

Les nodded, practically threw the spatula at David's head, and then ran upstairs to get out of his pajamas. 

David sighed. 

Spring break was worse than school. He spent all day trying to keep a hyperactive ten year old active, and while David loved his brother, he would much rather be in school, learning and getting ready for college. 

Though when it was him, Les and Sarah, things were different. Sarah always had great ideas, and David wasn't alone when Sarah was there, and…

He wasn't going to think about Sarah. 

She had never existed, because if she had existed, that meant a lot of things that were not good to think about existed, and it also meant thinking about the fact that Les was exactly like Sarah in the one way David would have given  _ anything _ for them to be different. 

Les, who apparently had the Scooby Doo theme song stuck in his head, did not know how to control it  _ at all _ .

David resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears, knowing it wouldn't make any difference. 

Les was unknowingly sending him his own thoughts, and annoying as that was, David was just glad it was something they could hide. 

Sarah had not been so lucky. 

Sarah was obvious and people wanted her. Wanted to  _ eat  _ her, apparently, if David recalled correctly. Of course he recalled correctly. How could he forget that horrible day?

A woman showed up at their house, announced that Sarah was in danger and tried to explain entirely too much in entirely too little time. 

And now Sarah was gone, probably forever, and their parents didn't want to talk about it. It was like Sarah had never been a part of their family at all.

Even people who didn't want to eat her soul would have it out for his sister. 

People would want to use her, or be afraid of her, or any number of other problems. 

But Sarah was safe now, David reminded himself. Nobody could get to her all the way in… wherever it was that the woman had taken her. 

David shook his head, which fortunately was free of any cartoon theme songs for the present moment. 

He couldn't be thinking about Sarah. She was safe and happy, and Les needed David to be  _ here  _ now. 

He'd already lost his sister. David couldn't bear to lose his little brother too. 

* * *

Jack watched a pencil swirl absently in what appeared to be thin air. 

Watching Specs do anything was interesting, seeing as the boy was completely invisible, aside from his glasses, thus the nickname Specs. 

Specs was apparently making a list, as he often did when bored. 

This list was a grocery list, since Miss Medda wanted to make a run to the shop later today. 

"Can I help you, Jack?"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere, meaning it came from Specs, of course. 

"Just watchin'," Jack said with a smile. 

A small scrap of paper flicked itself in Jack's general direction, meaning Specs was pretending to be annoyed. 

Had he  _ actually _ been annoyed, it would have been the pencil flying at Jack's head. 

"Go help Racetrack cause havoc somewhere," Specs suggested, shoving his glasses up his invisible nose with an invisible hand.

"And quit bothering me."

Jack pushed back his chair obediently. 

Annoying Specs was a great way to find yourself subject to pranks you could never get revenge for. 

He headed outside and onto the lawn, where Racetrack was indeed getting involved in some shenanigans that Miss Medda would probably be amused by and pretend to disapprove of. 

Tumbler was  _ not _ supposed to be hovering that high. Too many trees to get tangled in. 

Jack laughed when, sure enough, the boy got his rope twisted on a branch, flipping himself into a very strange position. 

Skittery was  _ not _ going to be happy with Racer. 

"Hey Jack, give us a hand?"

Racetrack called, waving him over. 

Jack grinned. 

"I don't know, Race. I think maybe I should go get Skittery. He'd be a much better choice."

"No, no," Race said quickly. "That won't be necessary. I'll get him down."

He turned up to the tree. "Don't worry, Tumbler. I'll get you!"

Tumbler, for his part, did not seem to be particularly worried. 

A bit annoyed at being stuck, sure, but not afraid in any way. 

Racetrack scrambled clumsily up the tree and loosened Tumbler's rope from the branch. 

"Ready, Tumbler?" He put his arms around the boy's waist. 

Tumbler nodded, smiling a big excited grin. 

Jack watched as Racetrack jumped, pushing off from the tree in a stunt that any ordinary boy would never survive. But Racetrack and Tumbler weren't ordinary boys. 

Not in the slightest.   
  



	2. Small Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is hard when you're small and easily squished.

Smalls watched from her perch as Finch pored over old texts. 

Finch was always studying. The girl never  _ stopped.  _

But she always let Smalls sit on her shoulder while she did it, so Smalls wasn't going to complain too much. 

Life was dangerous when you were three inches tall, and Finch was a great way to keep protected. 

Not that Smalls  _ needed _ protecting. She was perfectly capable of looking out for herself, thank you  _ very _ much. But it put Miss Medda's mind at ease when she stayed with Finch, since the young ymbryne was probably the only even sort of mature one in the entire loop. 

"Finch, when was the last time you ate?" Smalls asked, twirling one of the vastly larger girl's braids. 

"Hmm? Oh, I ate breakfast when I woke up."

Smalls sighed. 

"Finch, it's nearly two o' clock. You haven't had lunch?"

Finch looked at her watch in surprise. 

"I had no idea it was so late." She shoved her chair back and stretched, and if Smalls didn't have such a good grip, she would have fallen to her doom. 

"You really shouldn't spend all your time in here," Smalls said, tugging at Finch's earlobe. 

"You should go outside. Maybe take a flight. I'll come with you."

Finch opened the pantry and took out some bread to make Smalls' favorite snack, toast and jam. 

"I have so much to learn, Smalls. I can't just go wandering off."

Smalls snorted. 

"You have to learn more than just book stuff. You have to learn to have  _ fun _ while you still can,  _ Miss Finch. _ "

Finch pretended to swat at Smalls like an annoying insect. She missed on purpose, obviously, but even if she  _ had  _ tried, Smalls would have gotten away. 

Smalls was quite practiced at daring escapes from annoying Bigs, as she called everyone but herself.

"I'm not Miss Finch yet. And at this rate I never will be. I started so late…" Finch sighed, and Smalls patted her neck consolingly with one tiny hand. 

"You're doing great. Miss Medda's so proud. You'll be a great ymbryne."

"If you say so." 

Finch set Smalls on her little chair, which was actually one of Racetrack's dice. 

"Jam or honey?"

"Jam, obviously."

Finch smiled and pulled out a jar of strawberry preserves, spreading it on one normal piece of bread, and dabbing very generously one little, Smalls-sized slice. 

"Thanks, Finch," Smalls said. 

The one very annoying aspect of being a bit smaller than the average person was the fact that Smalls couldn't access the cabinets very well on her own. 

Boots was working on a contraption for her, but it was slow going due to Miss Medda being certain the little girl would wind up squished into Smalls Jam while trying to get some Strawberry Jam.

To be fair, sometimes that did happen with Boots' machines. He didn't have nearly the touch Crutchie did, and Crutchie's machines couldn't be worked with any reliability by anyone but Crutchie. 

Boots knew what it was like to be hungry, seeing as he had two mouths to feed, so he always made a point to leave berries or candies somewhere Smalls could reach them. 

Not that Smalls  _ needed _ the help, but still. It was a nice thought. 

Finch sat down in the normal-sized chair, eating her own piece of toast. 

"Quiz me on known loops after this?" She asked hopefully. 

"Only if we go for a fly after that," Smalls insisted. 

"Deal."

* * *

Katherine worked away at her typewriter, muttering to herself. Well, not to herself. 

She muttered to her friends inside the wall.

You're never more than three feet from the nearest spider, as they say. 

True or not, being near to spiders was quite useful for Katherine, seeing as it was a helpful way of getting some peace and quiet when she wanted to write. 

Many of her housemates had an irrational aversion to spiders that Katherine just could not comprehend. 

Spiders were beautiful, and they were her friends. 

Besides, the old house never had a spider problem, not with Katherine there. 

She'd just politely ask them to leave, and away they went. 

"Is it affect or effect, miss?" She asked to the black widow seated on her shoulder. 

The spider rubbed her two front legs together, making a tiny clicking noise that everyone but Katherine swore they couldn't hear. 

"I think you're right," Katherine agreed, continuing with her manuscript. 

Her essays, though still unpublished, were described by Miss Medda as "revolutionary to the peculiar world."

Katherine couldn't help but be flattered, even though she was fairly certain Miss Medda would say her writing was good even if she handed the typewriter to one of Buttons' little bears. 

Now  _ there _ was a creepy creature. Living stuffed animals were surely more frightening than  _ spiders. _

"Katherine, dear." Miss Medda's voice came dancing up the winding stairs. 

"Come on down, dinner is ready."

"Coming," Katherine called, setting the spider from her shoulder onto the desk. 

Spiders in a room full of noisy, stomping children could only end in squished appendages at best, and at worst, Smalls trying to ride a tarantula who didn't want to be ridden. 

Katherine skipped down the stairs, brushing sticky webs from her fingers. 

She really should wipe down that typewriter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a list of all the characters I've included with specific peculiarities so far. 
> 
> Les - Telepathy  
> Specs - invisible  
> Tumbler - levitation  
> Smalls - is 3 inches tall  
> Finch - ymbryne in training (bird shapeshifter and controls time, basically)  
> Boots - backmouth (has a second mouth on the back of his head)  
> Medda - ymbryne, runs their loop.  
> Katherine - talks to/controls spiders  
> Buttons - makes/brings to life stuffed animals
> 
> David, Jack, Race, Sarah, and Skittery have been mentioned, but do not yet have named peculiarities.  
> Crutchie, Spot, Mush, and Fem!Sniper will all be in here, just haven't named them yet. 
> 
> (Kinda because I havent quite decided on some of theirs yet...)


	3. Of Scraps and of Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've got any suggestions for Racetrack's peculiarity, I'm open to suggestions due to I cannot decide.

David heaved the plastic trash bag into the dumpster outside of their apartment complex with a sigh. 

He was tired, so tired.

Les had been having insane dreams lately, which somehow made their way into  _ David's  _ mind, keeping him awake for hours. 

Les, of course, was not at all affected by these dreams, and was still just as energetic as ever. 

Thank goodness for the neighbors, letting him come over and give David a break for the afternoon. 

David ran a hand through his hair, annoyed at the state of the shared patio. 

It seemed like he was the only one who ever remembered that other people used this area. The upstairs neighbors certainly had no problem with leaving their smashed bottles and food scraps lying around.

Stupid college kids. 

There were  _ actual _ kids who lived in the complex, little kids who might get hurt on all this junk. 

David carefully picked up the bigger pieces of glass from the ground. He'd need a broom for the tiny ones, and no way was he touching some of that slimy old food. 

David had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him. Probably one of the neighbors, who of course couldn't be bothered to help clean up their own messes.

David tossed fast food bags into the dumpster and sorted anything that was recyclable, growing more and more irritated every minute. 

This was taking too long. He should go back inside and get started on dinner for when Les got home. 

Of course, his parents weren't around. They were almost never around, and Les wasn't safe by himself, that much David was certain of. 

Three years was a long time to leave your kids essentially to their own devices. 

Mom and Dad couldn't stand to see the house with one of their children missing. David understood that. He hated it too. But he didn't have any opportunities to leave like they did. 

No, he was stuck being the only one making sure Les didn't make the lightbulbs explode when he got too excited, or switch the neighbor's radio station without even realizing he did it.

David tossed a box full of glass jars into the recycling bin, but missed, sending it clattering behind it. 

He sighed. He didn't  _ have to _ go pick it up, but David knew he was going to anyway. Les and the neighbor kids liked to build forts back there, and they couldn't be playing in glass shards. 

David squeezed in between the dumpster and the wall, cursing the neighbors, his parents, and pretty much everything else. 

He found himself staring directly into a pair of green eyes, belonging to a sleek black cat. 

Half grown, practically a kitten still, it somehow managed to make David feel like he was intruding on important business. 

He shook his head. That was silly. Cats don't usually have important business going on, or at least, not behind the dumpster of a lower middle class apartment complex. 

The only business this skinny little thing had was finding something to eat, probably. 

"Hungry, little guy?" David asked, offering his hand for the cat to smell. 

It stared at him disdainfully, and David laughed, straightening up to his feet. 

"Stay here, I'll bring you food," he promised, heading in the house. 

Realistically, David was pretty sure the cat would be long gone before he got back outside, but bringing a paper plate full of scraps of chicken slices out to feed any strays was something to do on an otherwise boring day. 

To his surprise, it was still there, staring intensely in the window of Mr. Pulitzer's house, three doors down from the Jacobs' home. 

"Hey kitty," David called out, rustling the slices of lunch meat as much as lunch meat could possibly be rustled. 

The cat seemed almost to glare at him, as if insulted, hopping from the windowsill and dashing off into the bushes. 

David sighed, but set down the plate, just in case it decided to come back. 

Now to get dinner ready for Les and himself.

* * *

Jack laughed at Spot's irritation, toying with a tiny spark on the end of his fingers. 

A few of the older, more secretive children hung out in the attic of the old house, where they could converse in private. 

Mainly, they listened to Spot tell stories of the future, since the rest of them had never been. 

Spot, like many cats, did not like to be confined, so he snuck out much more than he should. 

"He called me  _ kitty _ . I'm not a kitty, Jack. Kitty is an insult."

Spot's tail thrashed back and forth, one the few features that remained from his transformation from full-cat to half-cat half-human. 

"You  _ were _ in kitty form," pointed out a voice that must have been Specs, since it didn't appear to come from anywhere at all. 

Spot hissed in the general direction of the voice, pinning back his ears. 

"Don't go getting all hissy with me. You're the one who insisted on leaving the loop to spy."

Specs had removed his glasses, meaning Spot couldn't see him at all, and thus couldn't attack the invisible boy. 

Spot gave a low growl of annoyance, turning back to Jack. 

"Well, now I'm sure. The boy's peculiar. Or at least, one of 'em is."

"How can you tell?" Asked Buttons, fiddling with some sewing. Jack wondered what it would be when he was done. Probably a bear. Buttons made a lot of bears. 

"Smell. But it might be the little one, or maybe both. They're so close all the time, smells exactly the same."

"We should tell Miss Medda," Specs said, making Jack jump, as apparently he'd moved. 

"And tell her I've been hanging around outside the loop without asking? No thank you, I'd rather keep my ears attached."

"And if a hollow gets to them before she finds out on her own?" Demanded Boots from his spot by the ladder. 

"We've got to get them into a loop, and soon. If we've figured it out, surely a wight has too."

Mentions of wights and hollows was enough to silence any chatter that might have been going on, namely, Mush and Racetrack arguing about Mush's venus flytraps. 

"True…" Spot agreed, twitching his tail thoughtfully. 

"Alright, but Jack has to tell her. She likes him best."

Jack grinned, heading for the ladder.

"Everybody likes me best..."

Making sure he had a quick escape, he added, 

"Kitty."

Jack ducked down the ladder before Spot could disembowel him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A summary of new characters/peculiarities 
> 
> Spot : appears half cat, half human, and can transform into full cat
> 
> Jack : controls fire
> 
> Mush : plant growth (basically Poison Ivy type powers)
> 
> Racetrack : unspecified


	4. Sisters

Looking back, David would never have been suspicious of a man like Mr. Pulitzer. 

He'd been living down the street from the Jacobs family for the past year, which was about the time Les started his whole "telepathic trespassing" in David's mind. 

Mr. Pulitzer really seemed like a nice old man, if a bit eccentric. 

David waved to the man if he saw him, and he'd occasionally stop to have a chat with Mr. Jacobs about current events, or about Mrs. Jacobs' window boxes, which they all assumed he couldn't see, due to his severe cataracts. 

But it turned out, things were not as they seemed, not at all. 

If only the bird woman had  _ told them _ . Told them  _ what _ to look for, not just that they had to be careful. 

Maybe they'd have put it together sooner than that afternoon. 

David and Les had just gotten home from their first day back at school after spring break, and David was more than happy to be back in the old routine. 

"David, come look! Mr. Pulitzer's gone  _ nuts _ !"

David looked out the window and saw one of the strangest sights he had ever seen in their little complex. 

The old man was swinging a net at a little yellow and brown bird, hopping around irately and shouting at the top of his lungs. 

The cat David had seen a few days ago was hissing and scratching at Mr. Pulitzer's legs, apparently in a competition to see who got to catch and eat the now extremely angry bird. 

"Stay in here. I'm going to go try and get him to calm down."

David slipped outside and into the parking area, where Mr. Pulitzer was swearing and kicking at the furiously hissing cat while the bird shrieked and darted around his head. 

"Mr. Pulitzer!" David called out. "Come inside, before you lose an eye!"

The man ignored him in favor of screaming at the bird some more. 

"It'll be much easier for you and your useless wards if you come quietly! I'll even let the mangy cat go with both ears and most of a tail."

Well, Mr. Pulitzer had officially gone off the deep end. 

Unless… 

Wards. A bird.  _ Sarah _ . 

As insane as it sounded, David had to talk to that bird. 

"Mr. Pulitzer! Leave that bird alone!" 

David spun around at the voice, which belonged to Les. How had he not noticed his brother coming outside?

"Les, go back inside!" 

David shouted. If his suspicion was correct, Mr. Pulitzer was dangerous, and he could be after Les. 

Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done to stop Les in his pursuit of justice, especially when innocent little animals were involved. 

"Jacobs!"

Mr. Pulitzer suddenly seemed to notice they were there. 

"Come help me with this! I have to catch this damned  _ bird!" _

And then everything  _ really _ went to hell. 

Glass bottles hovered in the air as if they'd become weightless before smashing into the ground at Mr. Pulitzer's feet. 

One of the dumpsters went flying, like it had been thrown, but that wasn't possible. They were several hundred pounds,  _ empty. _

And the spiders, so many spiders. More spiders than David had ever seen before in his life. 

A boy jumped into the middle of everything, and he was  _ on fire.  _

Someone grabbed David from behind, and a voice he recognized, a voice he'd missed so much it hurt, urged him to move. 

"Come on, David, we have to get you guys away."

Sarah. 

There was no time to argue, as Mr. Pulitzer had just pulled out a gun and started firing it wildly. 

Even if there had been time to argue, David would have done  _ anything _ for Sarah. 

She grabbed Les by the shirt and started to run, her long skirt billowing behind her. It was a strange sight, as the Sarah David knew had always worn jeans. 

He had a million questions, but no time to ask any of them. He just followed Sarah, trusting that she knew where they were going. 

* * *

Finch paced back and forth in the house. She had never been so worried in her entire life. 

Those  _ stupid, stupid _ idiots. She couldn't believe they would leave the loop. Talk about irresponsible!

And now Miss Medda was forced to follow behind and sort things out, leaving Finch in charge of the loop. 

What if something happened? Finch couldn't be the sole ymbryne, she just  _ couldn't.  _ She didn't know how! It was so complicated, and she was too young! 

_ Real _ ymbrynes were maternal, and Finch was quite clearly still a teenager, even if she was well over a hundred years old. 

What if she couldn't keep the loop running? They'd all die, and it would be her fault. 

No, it would be the  _ stupid, brainless fools' _ fault. Why did they have to go leave the loop on some hair brained scheme to rescue peculiar? 

That was an ymbryne's job. 

Not a job for Jack Kelly and his insane confidence that made Finch want to scream. 

"Finch, you need to calm down."

The voice came from her shoulder, where Smalls was tying a long piece of thread into a tiny rope ladder. 

"Miss Medda has it all under control."

Finch sighed. "I know, but why couldn't they have gone to her in the  _ first  _ place?"

"Because they weren't even supposed to know about what happens outside the loop," pointed out Buttons from his work at the table.

This time it looked like he was just making clothes, not anything to come alive, thankfully.

Finch didn't need a herd of teddy bears clamoring and being a distraction, not right now. 

"I just don't understand why Sarah would go along with that," she admitted. 

Sarah was normally so level headed. Finch  _ trusted _ Sarah. She was the closest thing Finch had to a sister, and she'd gone off on some harebrained adventure that should have been left up to Miss Medda. 

And as much as Finch tried to pretend that wasn't the reason, she couldn't help but be hurt that Sarah hadn't asked her along too. 


	5. Loop

David followed Sarah down side streets and alleys that he hadn't known existed in all their years living here. He'd never find his way home again, not by himself at least. 

They stopped in an alley, breathless. Sarah's face was red, and strangely, she looked no older than she was the day she'd left. 

She still looked sixteen, which made no sense. Sarah was almost three years older than David, so she should look almost twenty. This made no sense. What happened to Mr. Pulitzer? 

Who was the flaming boy? Why was Sarah looking at David and Les like that?

She smiled, still breathing a bit heavily. 

"Les, you're huge! When did you get so big? And David, you're taller than me now!"

David couldn't believe how  _ normal _ she was acting like this was. As if people just burst into flames in the middle of parking lots all the time. He couldn't believe how normal Les was acting too! The boy hugged Sarah, which, to be fair, David wanted to do too, but still. He had questions, and before David could do any hugging, he needed answers. 

"Sarah,  _ what _ is going on?" He demanded, and Sarah's smile faltered just a bit. 

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course! I just want to make sure nothing horrible is going to happen!"

David started to pace, and Sarah grabbed his forearms. This was a familiar situation, one that David hadn't realized how much he missed. 

Sarah was the only one who could really calm him down when he got stressed. 

"David, everythings okay for the moment, but there's a lot you need to know, and it's better if I let Miss Medda explain it."

"Miss who?"

That name sounded familiar, but there was so much going on, David couldn't think straight. 

Les was sending waves of happiness into David's mind, overwhelming him to the point of a migraine. 

"Miss Medda. Come on," Sarah took David by the hand. 

"We'll meet the others at our loop."

David followed behind Sarah, rubbing his temples in an unsuccessful attempt to get Les' thoughts out of his mind so he could actually  _ think. _

"Loop?"

Sarah didn't answer that one, just repeated that Miss Medda, whoever she was, would explain it all soon.

* * *

"Of all the stupid, crazy,  _ irresponsible  _ things to do, Jack Kelly I would  _ not _ have expected even you to do this."

Jack sighed. 

When Katherine was angry, she was very angry. 

They were all huddled in an alley, close enough to the loop that they could afford to stay still awhile, but far enough that they didn't risk giving the entrance away. 

Skittery had jammed a large dumpster in the entrance to the alley, to keep any nosy normals from accidentally stumbling upon them. 

Katherine was lecturing all the rescuers, Jack, Race, Skittery, and Spot, but not Specs, who had invisibly slipped away unnoticed. 

"I shouldn't have to come rescue you! You're lucky my spiders heard your little plan before something really bad happened!"

"Hey, about that," piped up Racetrack. "Eavesdropping is rude, and you shouldn't do it."

Katherine pointed one cobweb-laced finger at Racetrack's nose. 

" _ You _ should stop talking. Miss Medda is  _ not _ happy. And I'm yelling at Jack, so hush."

Racetrack did as he was told, clamping one hand over his mouth. 

"Katherine, I know you're mad," Jack began, but the girl interrupted before he could say anything more. 

"I am  _ beyond _ mad, Jack. I don't understand  _ why.  _ Why didn't you tell Miss Medda? Then the ymbrynes could have taken care of it, and everyone would have been fine! _ " _

"Because they're Sarah's brothers," Jack said softly, trying to hide how bad and stupid he felt. 

"We had to make sure they were safe. Ymbrynes take too long." 

And Jack hated having Miss Medda upset with them, though this plan had probably made her angrier than admitting to leaving the loop ever would have.

"Oh!"

Katherine's voice went soft at that. 

"Well, I guess nobody got hurt…" she trailed off. 

"Next time, tell me before you start going off on some crazy plot to rescue a peculiar."

Jack smiled. Good, Katherine wasn't mad anymore. 

"So are we going home now?" Spot asked, twitching his fluffy black tail irritably. 

His fur was still on end, meaning he was much more nervous than he wanted to admit. 

"I don't want to age forward and become a shriveled old pile of fur and claws, thank you very much."

Skittery got to his feet and shoved the massive dumpster away from their hiding spot. 

Jack was still amazed at how strong someone so average-sized could be. 

But that was how it was to be peculiar, he supposed. 


	6. The Theater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am begging yall to review this because I have genuinely no clue if anyone is reading this, and if so, what they like or dislike about it.  
> Please talk to me I'm lonely

David and Les followed Sarah blindly. 

She seemed to know her way around the backstreets significantly better than she had a few years ago. Either that or she was getting them hopelessly lost. David really hoped she wasn't getting them lost.

Sarah led the way down worn side streets and past old buildings laced with moss and overgrown with plants. David didn't spend much time in this area of the city, and most of it seemed to be falling apart. 

"Okay, here we are," Sarah announced. 

David stared at her. 

They were outside of what looked to be the most run down building on the street, possibly in the entire city. 

It was  _ barely _ standing, and looked like, possibly at one point, it used to be a theater, or something resembling that. 

"Where?"

Les asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion. 

Sarah took him by the hand. "It's easier if I show you."

"Sarah!" David protested, picking his way carefully through the rubble to follow. 

"That's not safe!"

She looked over her shoulder with a smile. 

"We'll be fine. Trust me, David."

And for some unexplainable reason, he did. 

He followed his sister and brother into the shell of a building, past signs warning them not to enter, that this was a historic site, and apparently, as David had already said, a hazardous place to spend an afternoon. 

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't to pass through a half-standing closet door and into a building that wasn't on the verge of collapse. 

"Welcome to Irving Hall, home of Miss Medda and her Show of Wonder," Sarah announced, waving her hand proudly.

It certainly was something to be proud of, David had to admit. 

Thick curtains hung from the ceiling, intricately painted scenery leaned on every wall, and the costumes! David had never seen so many beads and sequins in one place before in his life!

The two boys gaped, awestruck. 

"It's … standing!"

Sarah laughed. "It's 1899! July 30th, to be exact. The theater burns down tonight, but for now, yes, it's standing."

"Burns down? Why are we here if it's going to-"

Sarah clamped a hand over David's mouth, smiling like she was trying not to laugh at him. 

"It's fine, I promise. Come on," she tugged on David and Les' hands. 

"Let's go find the others."

"Others?"

David asked, but Sarah brushed him off again. 

She led them through the backstage area, and surprisingly, nobody seemed to notice, or care about the three kids wandering through the theater. 

David and Les' clothes raised some eyebrows, but nobody stopped them. 

"It's okay," Sarah assured them when an older man in the lobby shot them a confused look. 

"They'll forget all about you tomorrow."

Sarah ducked under a velvet rope marked with a shiny sign reading "Miss Medda and Wards ONLY".

David paused for a moment, instinctively hesitating at the authoritative barrier, but Les had no such reservations. 

He slipped under without even a moment's pause, and of course, David couldn't let his brother go alone. 

So up the stairs they went, much higher than David would have thought the theater went. 

"Finch!" Sarah called, pushing past the heavy curtains hung in a doorway.

"Sarah!"

A girl with dark hair in tight braids bolted towards them and flung herself at Sarah, arms around his sister's neck. 

"Why did you leave? And without even telling me! Did Jack put you up to this?"

David instinctively backed away from the sudden onslaught of questions, even though they weren't directed at him.

Sarah, on the other had, seemed unfazed. 

"Finch, I'd like you to meet my brothers, David and Les. David, Les, this is Finch. She's my best friend."

Finch turned to them, seeming to notice the boys for the first time. 

"Oh, hello! I've heard about you. What are your peculiarities?"

David blinked in confusion, at a rare loss for words. 

"What's a peculiarity?"

Les asked, practically bouncing in excitement at all the craziness of the day. Mom and Dad hadn't explained much to Les, and frankly, what David knew was pretty limited too. 

He just knew Sarah was different, and she had to go away. But she was back now... but not any older... and David was starting to get a migraine.

"Sarah!" Finch scolded. "You didn't tell them  _ anything _ ?"

"I thought it would be better if Miss Medda explained," Sarah said in defense. 

"Maybe," Finch conceded, stepping back to look David and Les up and down. 

"She's not back yet, and neither is anyone else. I swear, if Jack has gone and gotten them stuck somewhere…"

David had absolutely no idea what was going on, and frankly, he needed to sit down. 

So he did. On the floor, right there in front of everyone. 

Les, Sarah, and Finch all stared at him, concerned at the sudden collapse, but David couldn't force his mouth to form an explanation. He just sat stupidly on the rug, looking very much like he'd lost his mind. 

And that was where he was when what sounded like a convention of clog-wearing elephants trampled up the stairs and past the heavy curtains that made a makeshift door.

At the very front was a woman dressed in bright colored scarves over a neat brown and yellow dress. She didn't look pleased, but David couldn't help but be happy to see someone who gave off the appearance of some sort of control. 

"Alright, is everyone back?"

She asked, taking a quick head count. 

"Specs? Are you here?"

David must have lost his mind, because a voice came from thin air, announcing, "Right here, Miss Medda."

"Go put some clothes on. Pants at the very least. We have guests." 

The woman, apparently Miss Medda, turned to face David, Les, Finch and Sarah. 

"Thank you for holding down the fort, Finch dear. And hello, Sarah and family. You must have so many questions!"

She suddenly seemed to notice David sitting on the floor. 

"David, what are you doing on the floor? It is David, right?"

The question was directed at Sarah, and was enough to shake David from his dazed state. He got to his feet, embarrassed immediately by the many pairs of eyes now focused on him. 

"And you're Miss Medda?"

David asked, trying very hard not to be sick all over the carpet. He felt light headed and frankly, motion sick, in spite of the fact that he had been sitting down. 

"Medda Larkin, also known as Miss Meadowlark, but nobody calls me that."

The woman stuck out a hand, smiling warmly. 

"Sarah's told us all so much about her brothers. When we realized you were both peculiar, well, we were all as happy as could be to meet you!"

David took her hand numbly, and managed to choke out a "Hello" before his mind short circuited. 

"Nice to meet you, Miss Medda!" Les chimed in, filling what would have been an awkward silence.

"I'm Les, Sarah's brother. This is David, he's also our brother."

Medda smiled, shaking Les' hand as well. 

"It's wonderful to meet you as well, Les. Children," she said, looking up. 

"Come on, let's show our new friends some hospitality, shall we?"

Sarah took David by the hand, leading him off once again to who knew where. 


	7. Miss Medda Explains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plz let me know what you think!  
> I'm probably going to change Racetrack's peculiarity, since it wasn't really working for him to be just super strong. Sorry if that's confusing.

Jack reached absently for Sarah's hand, taking comfort in the fact that she was fine. 

He didn't want to admit it, but he'd worried about her leaving the loop. 

"I'm glad you're safe," he said softly, hoping nobody else heard, specifically Sarah's brothers. 

She laughed lightly. "Jack, I was fine. I should be worried about you sprouting grey hairs on me," she teased, toying with a stray piece of Jack's hair.

Sarah was the newest peculiar in their loop by a long shot, so no risk of aging forward for her, but there was still the constant fear of wights and hollows hanging over all of them. 

"I'll be fine," he promised, touching Sarah's cheek lightly. 

"Just don't go getting yourself eaten on me or anything."

Sarah smiled, and tugged him forward.

"I won't, promise. Now come on, I want to properly introduce you to my brothers."

Jack followed her, still smiling like a doofus, but nearly fell over at a squeaked little voice from almost directly underfoot. 

"Sarah! Jack!"

The voice from the floor was a surprise to both of them.

"Stop making lovey eyes at each other and give me a lift, will ya?"

"Smalls!" Sarah cried, kneeling to offer the tiny girl a hand to climb on to.

Sarah had an amazing understanding and ability to be kind to everybody, and Jack adored her for it. 

"Hurry up!" Commanded Smalls, climbing onto Sarah's shoulder and tugging at her hair. 

"Miss Medda's probably going to explain everything to the new guys, and I want to hear!"

Jack held back the curtain for Sarah and her miniature passenger, hoping things wouldn't change too much now that Sarah's family was here. 

Sarah reached for his hand again, tangling her fingers with his. He ran his thumb absently along her thin, strong fingers, calloused in all the right places from her plants and whatever other work she insisted on helping out with. 

Yes, he really hoped things wouldn't change  _ too _ much. Jack liked things just fine how they were.

* * *

Smalls, for her part, appreciated Sarah, the new girl (it took a long time for her to think of anybody as anything other than "new", living in a loop. Years of the same day over and over again didn't feel all that long when you'd known everybody else for centuries). 

Sarah always let Smalls walk onto her hand, rather than just grabbing and picking her up like a doll. 

She held tight to the special little strap on Sarah's shoulder, attached to her blouse just for the purpose of Improved Smalls Travel. 

Buttons added one on everybody's clothes, since he was one of the few in their loop with enough brains  _ and _ patience to thread a needle. He also made Smalls her own clothes so she didn't have to wear  _ doll _ clothes. Stupid dolls. Smalls did not like dolls. 

Smalls wasn't a doll, and she wasn't a mouse or a pet or a toy, or anything else people seemed to think when they saw her. 

She was a person, even if she was a bit on the small side and subject to squishableness. 

Miss Medda fussed a bit too much, in Smalls' opinion. She could handle herself, thank you  _ very _ much. 

But Miss Medda did her best, and Smalls supposed she should be appreciative. And it looked like they'd be getting some new peculiars now, Sarah's family. 

That bigger boy looked to be a bit dense, not that Smalls would say it out loud. He didn't quite seem to know what was going on, and he almost sat on Smalls, falling over onto the floor.

Now he was staring at Spot's tail, a surefire way to get clawed across the eyes. 

"What're you looking at?" Growled Spot, as Smalls expected. 

"You have a tail," David stated the obvious. He looked confused and nervous and very very out of place, and Smalls felt bad for him. He was probably going to be murdered within the next thirty seconds. 

"And?" Spot demanded, looking very much like he wanted to commit a violent and heinous crime. 

"Spot, be nice," Finch said firmly, much to Spot's annoyance. He twitched his tail and flattened his ears before turning abruptly and sitting on the floor next to Crutchie. 

Sarah sat down next to David and Les, putting Smalls at the perfect level to get a better look at these new people. 

David just looked overwhelmed, she realized, not stupid. And Les looked excited. That made sense. Younger kids tended to take to peculiarity much more easily, what with the imagination and belief in magic and stuff. 

"Hey, it's nice to meet you," Smalls introduced herself. "I'm Smalls."

"Hiya Smalls!" Les said cheerily. David offered a little smile, but still looked uncomfortable. 

"Shush," said Jack, rudely interrupting their conversation that had nothing to do with him. 

"Miss Medda's gonna talk."

Sure enough, Miss Medda did talk, giving the best speech ever, in Smalls' opinion. The Peculiar Speech. 

"Well, it's nice to have you here, David and Les. Sarah has become a part of the family, and I'm sure you two will as well."

She smiled kindly. 

"David, I can tell you have questions. Anything specific I can explain?"

David sat up a bit straighter at being addressed specifically. 

"Yeah, I think. Please don't take this the wrong way, but what  _ is  _ this place?" 

"Irving Hall," Miss Medda declared proudly. 

"Our loop!" Shouted Blink from his seat on the windowsill. 

"Our loop and our home," Medda began. "I set this loop in 1899, shortly before the theater burned down in a terrible fire. It is a place of learning and companionship, but most of all safety, for peculiars like yourselves."

She was addressing David and Les specifically, Smalls knew, but the children all knew that she was talking to each one of them as well. 

"What's a peculiar?"

Les asked, bouncing where he sat. 

"A peculiar is a person, like all of us, who has something about them that sets them apart from other humans."

"Or cats," said Racetrack, risking life and limb to poke Spot in the side. 

Miss Medda gave him a disapproving look. 

"And we do not tease one another about our peculiarities. They are nothing to be ashamed of, right, Mr. Higgins?"

"Yes, Miss Medda," Race said quickly. 

When Miss Medda used last names, it meant she was serious. 

"Why do you live here?" David asked, finally finding his words. 

"Why not just live with the rest of us?"

Miss Medda looked to Finch, expecting her to explain. She'd been doing that a lot, Smalls noticed. Making Finch do ymbryne stuff to prepare for going off on her own.

"It's not safe," Finch explained. This was an easy one to talk about. All the peculiars knew this bit. 

"The Hollowgast are the main danger. They'd kill any peculiar they got the chance to."

Everyone in the room shared a collective shudder. 

"What's a Hollowgast?"

"Monsters!" Squeaked Tumbler, floating just a bit off of Skittery's lap in his fear. 

"They wanna eat our souls, and become wights!"

Miss Medda nodded in agreement. "Wights can pass as normal humans. The only difference is their eyes. They are the ones who find peculiars for the Hollows to consume. "

Smalls felt sick at the thought of a wight's eyes. Hideous, pale, milky white things with no pupils or anything. 

Gross. 

David looked a bit sick too. 

"Mr. Pulitzer…" he trailed off. 

"Our neighbor, he moved in right after Sarah came to stay with you all."

That was  _ not _ good. Having a wight for a neighbor would only lead to trouble. 

"That actually reminds me," David said, turning to Sarah. 

"Why do you still look the same? It's been three years, and you magically look younger than me."

"Time works differently in loops," Miss Medda explained. "We experience the same day over and over again, in an endless cycle. Nobody ages any more than they would in a single day, unless they leave the loop for an extended time."

"That's another reason it's so dangerous to leave your loop,  _ especially _ if you don't tell your ymbryne."

Finch gave Jack and the rest of his gang of hooligans a Look.

"You risk aging forward all at once, which at best would make you go crazy. At worst, you catch up your years all at once and turn to dust."

That sobered the already peaceful mood in the room quite a bit. 

"But there's good stuff too," Smalls said, not enjoying how depressing things had gotten. 

"We put on shows for the normals, and if we make a mistake, they'll forget about it when the loop resets!"

Miss Medda smiled at the little joke. 

"Yes, and we're safe in the loop. Hollows can't enter, and neither can normals."

David frowned, though Smalls couldn't comprehend why. 

"The theater makes for a wonderful disguise. Everyone expects to see odd things at a theater. They just think it's a trick. Magic, smoke and mirrors kind of thing," Miss Medda explained. 

"Any other questions?"

She looked out across the room, but mostly at Sarah's brothers.

"Alright, then let's get dinner started, shall we?"

That, of course, was greeted with considerable excitement. 


	8. Something Like Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mush and Davey are bros. 
> 
> (Mush has metallic skin that also makes other things turn to metal occasionally)

David hoped it wasn't obvious that he was staring. This group was overwhelming just as a whole, like a big, noisy family gathering of every extended cousin and eight-times-removed relatives, however estranged. 

Rowdy, noisy, and filled with entirely too many questions. Add to that the fact that one of them had cat features, one was as tall as his finger, and yet another was  _ invisible _ , and David was having quite an  _ interesting _ time. 

Les, on the other hand, was completely at ease, having immediately befriended a little boy hovering a few inches off his chair. Les, always quick to make friends, cheerfully answered any and all questions about "the future", as the children all referred to David and Les' version of present day New York. 

David sat as close to Sarah as he could without making it awkward. On his left was a boy wearing an eyepatch, and on Sarah's right, the flaming boy David had seen fighting Mr. Pulitzer. 

He wasn't flaming  _ now _ , of course, but he was sitting close enough to Sarah that David felt a bit defensive on his sister's behalf. 

The guy seemed friendly enough, though. 

"I'm Jack," he introduced himself as soon as he flopped into the chair. 

"Sarah's told everybody all about her brothers, probably a million times."

Sarah smiled, and David saw her reach for Jack's hand discreetly, half under the table. 

Sure, Sarah had been older than David his entire life. But now, apparently she hadn't aged, making  _ him _ the older sibling. 

He already looked out for Les, so adding Sarah wouldn't be too difficult, David told himself. 

But how was he supposed to protect his sister around people who could control fire, or throw dumpsters weighing hundreds of pounds?

David couldn't, and that scared him. 

Sarah's laugh snapped David from his thoughts. He'd missed Sarah's laugh. She seemed so much happier here, around people like herself.

Maybe this would all work out. David sure hoped so. 

At the very least, these people sure knew how to cook.

The food was good, better than David had tasted in a long time, seeing as he and Les had been living largely on boxed macaroni and cheese for a good while. 

A thick beef soup, sweet potatoes, and the best bread David had ever tasted. 

Simple, yet so homey and just plain nice, that David found himself starting to relax in spite of the fact that the boy across from him was eating from the back of his head rather than the front. 

"Boots has a backmouth", Jack explained, and the boy, Boots, apparently, nodded in agreement, reaching back to eat a big chunk of potato. 

"What about you? What's your peculiarity?"

Suddenly, it seemed like everyone in the room was staring at them. 

Thank goodness for Les chirping in and saving David. 

"I can talk in other people's brains!" He declared proudly. 

"Watch!"

Sarah burst into giggles.

"Les! Quit reading my mind!"

"I don't  _ read _ your mind. You read mine! But only what I want you to."

That wasn't entirely true, David knew. When Les got worked up, he had a tendency to lose all control of his amazing ability and on some occasions, it wasn't just David's thoughts that were affected. 

Things broke, music switched off and on, and David experienced migraines that were downright crippling. 

"It doesn't work on everybody, I don't know why."

Miss Medda gave Les a reassuring smile. "You can practice a bit more. It may just take time, or you'll just have to figure out what it is that makes some people work and others not. No peculiarity is the same, just like no peculiar is the same."

Her gentle confidence made David feel just a bit better. It was nice to have someone in control who knew what was going on. His parents hadn't felt like that in a long time, David thought, and then immediately felt terrible for even thinking it. . 

"What about you, David?"

"What about me?" Everyone was looking at him again. 

"Your peculiarity, " Sarah explained. 

"It must have manifested after I left."

She looked so hopeful and happy, David felt terrible to disappoint her. 

"I really don't know. You said I wouldn't have made it in here if I wasn't peculiar, right?"

Miss Medda nodded in confirmation. 

"So I guess I must be, but I don't know how."

David stared at his hands, for some reason feeling ashamed to be so bland and normal. 

Sarah put an arm around his shoulder. 

"We'll figure it out, David. Don't worry. I'm just so glad we all can stay here together!"

Together. It had been entirely too long since the Jacobs siblings had been together. 

* * *

Mush hopped onto the squishy mattress of his bed and turned to face his newest roommate. 

His room had a spare bed, so now Mush was bunking with Sarah's brother, David. 

He seemed decent enough, if a bit flusterable. 

Probably a good thing Miss Medda didn't let Blink sleep in Mush's room. This new guy didn't look like he'd be great at handling one of Blinky's nightmares. 

"So, Davey." Mush attempted to start a conversation. 

"How ya doin' so far? Been a big day, hasn't it?"

David nodded, curling his legs into the bed across from Mush. 

"It's a lot. I'm just glad Les is doing okay with it all."

"Little kids take to it easier, usually," Mush explained, bouncing a bit in his bed. 

"Miss Medda sometimes doesn't even have to meddle with their memories if they sees something they shouldn't."

David frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean, meddle with their memories?"

"Ymbrynes can manipulate people's memories an' stuff. Make 'em forget things they shouldn'ta seen, like maybe your neighbors saw Jacky bust in on fire, and we don't want anybody calling the police."

Mush rubbed his special sleep gel up and down his arms to make sure the sheets didn't turn into gold or platinum or whatever else wound up happening to him while he slept. 

"I bet she did it to your folks when Sarah left, right?"

David's face changed in an instant, realization wiping away a cloud behind his eyes that Mush wouldn't have noticed except for the difference once it was gone. 

"I guess that would explain why they never wanted to talk about her. It was always weird. Not like she never existed, exactly, but like…" David sighed. 

"Like she wasn't family, or something."

Mush nodded as if he understood, but really, he didn't. 

He'd never had siblings until Miss Medda's home, where suddenly he had loads of siblings, and all of them were family and nobody left.

David sighed again, apparently a sound he made quite often. Poor guy looked dead tired, Mush realized. He reached to blow out the little oil lamp beside the bed. Davey needed sleep, after a day like today. 

And who knew what tomorrow would hold?


	9. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of filler chapter, and just in general giving a bit more characterization for a few people.  
> Lmk what you like, or dont like, and what characters you'd like to see more of!

Katherine slipped down the stairs, careful not to make any creaks or groans that would wake anybody up. 

She didn't usually wake up so early, preferring to stay up late at night and then sleep late into the morning.

But last night, she'd actually gone to bed at what Miss Medda referred to as "a reasonable hour", though always with a wink and a smile. 

Their ymbryne did her best to at least be sort of strict, if only for the sake of the younger kids, such as Tumbler or Boots, who needed that maternal kind of stability. 

Katherine, being one of the oldest in the loop, was given a bit more freedom. She slept when she liked, and had her own room,(though that was probably due to the fact that sharing a room with Katherine meant sharing with a good number of spiders and cobwebs) a little loft tucked away in such a way that her (usually late-night) writing never kept anyone awake. 

Besides, Katherine reflected, slipping past one of the heavy, colorful curtains and into the main area of their home above the theater. Miss Medda was much more fun and impulsive than a good many ymbrynes. 

For example, Miss Medda put on shows in the theater sometimes, and the peculiar children always watched, sometimes joined in if they felt like it. No other loop had that. 

Katherine thought dreamily back to their most recent performance, how magical it was, like always, with smoke and illusions and real, genuine magicalness. That was probably her favorite thing about their loop, the theater. Though it would be nice to have something interesting to write about every once in awhile...

Katherine stopped short when she realized she wasn't the only one awake. 

Sarah's brother, David, was up too, staring out the window out onto the street below. 

"Good morning, David," she said softly. He looked tired, even after a night's sleep. 

"So it's really real," he whispered, never turning from the window. 

"Half of me never believed it, even after Sarah left. It was like she'd just… gone away. Maybe to live with our cousins in Missouri, or something. Not… this."

Katherine moved to stand beside him and look out onto the street.

This loop, New York, 1899, this was home. 

Horse-drawn carriages, women carrying baskets, kids selling papers. 

She'd been in the future, or perhaps it should be called the present… Well, she'd been to David's time a few times before, but never for long. 

Long enough for Katherine to see the difference. 

Electric everything, noisy automobiles and flashing lights everywhere you looked. It was crazy, and Katherine had no idea how Sarah wasn't insane from it. 

It was no wonder David got mixed up by the sudden change, even if the Here and Now was much quieter and more manageable than the Future, at least in Katherine's mind. 

Katherine put what was meant to be a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he jumped with a squeak. 

"Oh, sorry!"

Katherine quickly plucked the spider from her wrist and deposited her on her shoulder. 

"I don't even notice them anymore, it's just natural, like they're a part of me, you see."

David nodded in acceptance of Katherine's apology, and gave a little smile at her stammering. 

"It's definitely different from your part of the world," Katherine noted, stepping a bit closer to feel the early sun, warm and welcoming on her skin. 

He just nodded, looking back outside again. 

They stood like that for a moment, enjoying the first few moments after the sunrise, and basking in the simplicity of not having anything to talk about. 

Well, they could talk about a lot of things, Katherine supposed. David had to have a lot of questions, and she could probably answer most of them as well as anybody. 

But for now, it was enough for them just to watch the world wake up, and to simply exist. 

* * *

"So you're still going to sulk around and insist you have no problem with Sarah spending all her time with her brothers?"

Racetrack's voice snapped Jack out of his definitely-not-sulking, because he had no reason to sulk, and he certainly wasn't. Sulking, that is. 

He was reading a cowboy book, and having Deep, Important Thoughts. 

Jack Kelly did not  _ sulk _ . 

"I'm  _ thinking _ , Race. you should try it sometime. Might suit you."

He flicked a few little sparks at the other boy's face, but nothing too serious. Miss Medda'd go crazy if he turned Irving Hall to ashes before the old theater was supposed to burn down, and also Jack was holding one of his favorite books which he would prefer not to have reduced to mere cinders. 

Besides, he was unfortunately very aware that Race was right. 

Jack was jealous, and he hated that. 

He shouldn't be jealous of Sarah's brothers; they'd been apart for  _ years _ , so of course they wanted to catch up. 

They'd spent every waking moment together  _ all day _ , with Sarah showing the boys around, chattering and laughing and in general ignoring Jack, which he was not accustomed to at all.

Jack rarely went ignored, and he certainly did not like the way it made him feel, all stuffy and sad and lonely. It sucked. And hurt. 

He was being a jerk about it too. It wasn't like Sarah was hanging out with some other guy. They were her brothers, and brothers didn't count as guys. 

Sarah had every right to her own life, and Jack had no reason to interfere. 

He just wished he could be a part of it right now, and not pushed to the outside, intentionally or not. 

Jack let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. Racetrack rather unhelpfully laughed at his plight. 

"Come on, you old sorry-sack. Let's go find somethin' to do."

Jack allowed himself to be dragged away from his corner, but only because he was done with his book. 

He'd been sitting there on purpose, after all. 

Not sulking. 

Jack didn't sulk. 

Never.


	10. Ruffled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did not have a great day at work but here's another chapter because writing this brings me some shred of happiness :)  
> I hope there's still folks reading, but even if not, imma keep writing, cause it makes me happy.

Finch loved flying. It was one of the very few times she could just… forget about anything and everything that weighed her down and just be free, completely and totally free. 

It helped that transforming into a bird still made her a bit loopy, pun intended, and she did pick up some of the scatterbrained flightiness of an ordinary little goldfinch. 

That was probably why Smalls always tried to coax her into taking bird form, Finch thought with the closest thing to a smile her beak could form. 

"Relax, Finch," "Take a break, Finch," "Quit getting your metaphorical feathers in a ruffle and go ruffle your _real_ feathers, Finch."

Smalls was like Finch's reverse conscience, that little voice inside her telling her to be impulsive, to go out and do silly, pointless things just for the fun of them, even if Finch _knew_ they were a waste of time. 

It didn't help that Miss Medda often agreed, always reminding Finch that she needed to have fun occasionally too. 

Finch adored her mentor, so she did as she was told, all the while in the back of her mind worrying that the games and free time were a waste of her time, time that could and should be spent studying and practicing to be a better ymbryne. 

But now, with the wind under her wings and Smalls' tiny hands gripping her feathers, Finch couldn't bring herself to worry. 

She flew a circle around the park again, looking for Sarah and her brothers. 

Sarah had asked Medda to let her give the boys a tour of their loop, which of course their ymbryne had agreed to.

Smalls tugged at Finch's feathers lightly, pointing down at a grassy hill. 

There they were, seated under a tree, looking entirely normal, more normal than Finch and Smalls would look, that was for sure. 

Bright yellow birds with miniature girls riding on them tended to attract attention, usually unwanted. 

Finch landed on Sarah's head with a chirp, letting Smalls slide off. 

"Finch! Smalls!" Sarah laughed, holding out a finger for Finch to perch on. 

"What are you doing here?"

Finch couldn't talk in bird form, obviously, and changing back to human right here would certainly be awkward, considering clothes didn't come along for the transformation. 

"We came to find you," Smalls explained. "Finch was being a bore and I just _had_ to get her out of the theater."

"That's Finch?"

Sarah's brother, Les, the little one, asked, sounding a mix of surprised and delighted. 

Finch fluttered from Sarah's finger and onto Les' hand, making the boy squeal happily. 

The little ones always seemed to consider Finch to be a full-fledged ymbryne already, in spite of the fact that she really had no idea what she was doing most of the time. 

David still seemed a bit overwhelmed, and Finch made a mental note to check up on him later, seeing as he was so new to everything. 

Peculiardom could be a lot at first, but she was certain that, with a little help, David could and would fit in quite nicely. 

After all, every single one of them was a bit odd, in their own ways. Why wouldn't David find his place?

* * *

"Sarah."

Specs had an unfortunate habit of waiting to announce his presence until he was standing right beside you, which was a great way to get scratched by Spot, bitten by Boots, or surrounded by Sarah's vines, as he was right now. 

"Sorry Specs. You surprised me."

Sarah focused on the vines, getting them to recede and let the invisible boy go free. 

"I was just thinking, is all."

Worrying was more accurate. Jack had been quieter than usual at dinner, and while that gave Sarah more time to talk to David and Les, it didn't make her any less concerned. 

Jack was rarely quiet, and he refused to explain what was wrong this time. 

"It's fine," Specs assured her, untangling his legs from the (thankfully not poisonous or thorny) vines. 

"I'm a bit too quiet, I guess. But I needed to talk to you. About Jack."

Sarah sighed. 

"I must have done something, but I can't figure out what."

Specs' glasses moved from side to side, the only sign he was shaking his head. 

"I don't think you did anything wrong. You know how Jacky gets sometimes. Got his feathers all in a ruffle, no disrespect meant to the birds. Maybe just talk to him." Specs shrugged, or at least, Sarah thought he shrugged, based on the tilt of his glasses and the fact that a person would be likely to shrug in this kind of situation. 

"I might have been listening to him and Race talk earlier today and they might not have been entirely aware of this. He won't admit it to you, of course, but he's afraid you won't want him anymore. Stupid doofus." 

Specs shoved his glasses up his invisible nose. 

"I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to him, if only to get him to stop scorching things in our room. The smell is unbearable and makes it incredibly difficult for me to sleep."

Sarah had to smile at the image of Jack singing everything in his and Specs' shared bedroom, from sheets to wallpaper to his own hair, on occasion. 

Jack had a tendency to do that when something distracted him. 

But this time, it was a negative distraction, so she'd better do something to fix the situation. 

"I'll make sure we do something special tomorrow," Sarah decided aloud. 

"Something just me and him."

Jack deserved better than to feel like she didn't want him around, especially since that was so very untrue. 

And besides, Miss Medda didn't like it when he set the floors on fire. 


	11. Miss Medda's Show of Wonderment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just me, explaining and showing off some peculiarities. 
> 
> The ones I didn't list or point out in this chapter are :  
> Mush's skin is metallic, Boots has a mouth on the back of his head, and Blink has prophetic visions. 
> 
> Not to brag or anything (I say, going on to brag) but I make some pretty rad moodboards for this fic, and I post em on tumblr at maggs-is-a-muppet, if u wanna see or talk to me!  
> I love having people talk to me and also I take writing requests so hmu if u ever want a fic written!  
> (The best part is I work for free)

Miss Medda very rarely closed her theater for the day, even though she was well aware it made no difference, open or closed doors. 

When every day was July 30th, 1899, the city would go along just fine no matter what she did or didn't do, yet still, she always said it was her responsibility to keep Irving Hall up and running. 

It was only on very special, peculiar-related occasions, that she put up a large banner declaring the theater "closed for maintenance." 

It hardly mattered what maintenance was or wasn't happening, since as soon as the loop reset, all the locals would immediately forget the sign had ever existed. 

For far too many years to count, they'd kept the theater open, night after repeated night, normal performers putting on a show, or occasionally, Miss Medda's Show of Wonderment, performed by the children. 

Her lovely children, always so excited to get onstage. 

Well, except for Spot, but that was to be expected from him. 

If he'd only try it, Medda was sure he would enjoy himself, with his flair for the dramatic and love of attention that he always insisted he didn't want. 

Unlike Medda's other wards, Spot had no interest whatsoever in showing off his peculiarity, and he made that very clear by refusing to participate or even attend The Show of Wonderment. 

The rest of the children, though, absolutely loved performing Medda's Show of Wonderment, and the audience ate their contagious energy right up. 

The audience was always amazed by the tricks, almost like real magic. They could never figure out Medda's illusions, and nobody ever thought to suspect that the reason for this might be because there  _ weren't  _ any illusions to figure out. Just peculiars being stunning, as usual.

Medda twirled in front of the mirror, making sure her gold feathered dress looked just right. She might have the very serious job of being this loop's ymbryne, but she could have her fun too. 

* * *

David found himself seated beside Les and a few other children in plush red seats of Miss Medda's gorgeous theater. 

Sarah refused to explain to him what was going on, only promising that they'd love it, and to stay with Crutchie, who was the boy now on David's left. 

At first glance, Crutchie seemed fairly normal, but as David was beginning to realize, everything was very rarely as it seemed around here. 

The boy's left leg was a whirring mix of gears and springs, and David couldn't help but wonder why it counted as peculiar if it was just a very impressive prosthetic. Not that he was going to say that out loud, of course, but still. He wondered, was all. 

The lights dimmed, and Crutchie gently shushed Les and his chatter as music began playing, soft yet with an intensity that David couldn't help but be excited by. 

"Welcome, one and all, to Miss Medda's Show of Wonderment!"

Candles inside lamps lit up all around the room, lighting the stage and surrounding walkways. 

Les bounced in his seat when Sarah came out, dressed all in green, like a forest nymph. 

She made flowers grow and almost dance across her fingertips like butterflies, her eyes sparkling with a joy that David had missed so very much. 

He hadn't seen Sarah look this at ease, this happy, in longer than he could remember. She looked so completely and totally herself, and David's heart ached, though he didn't know why. 

A little goldfinch landed on her shoulder, and Sarah unclasped her green cloak, holding it up to block the audience's view. 

A swish of fabric, and Finch appeared, wrapped in a makeshift toga fashioned from the cloak. 

Everyone in the little audience cheered, and Crutchie leaned over to David to whisper, "we've all seen that a million times, but it never gets old."

"Presenting Buttons and his stringless puppets!" Announced the voice, which David was pretty sure belonged to Racetrack. 

A little puppet stage on wheels was pushed out onto the big stage, and a troupe of dancing teddy bears frolicked around on the miniature set. 

They seemed alive, and, David realized, they probably were, considering everything else that seemed to be going on here. 

The puppets danced for awhile, and then Skittery came onstage to clear them away. He lifted the puppet stage single handedly before performing a few other impressive feats of strength with rocks and weights and the piano on the corner of the stage. 

Tumbler, one of the littlest boys here, came out and performed a gymnastics routine that quite literally defied gravity, thanks to his levitation abilities, and Katherine did a terrifyingly eerie dance with dozens of spiders crawling and weaving around her feet. 

Specs juggled, or David assumed it was Specs, since the balls, clubs, and bottles seemed to be juggling themselves, and Racetrack performed some incredible sleight of hand, announcing himself in a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. 

Suddenly, the lights went out entirely.

Nobody seemed concerned, so David assumed it was part of the show.

A tiny glow appeared on the stage, a flickering candle, which grew and illuminated just enough to show that it wasn't a candle at all, but Jack's pointer finger, a little flame dancing on the very tip of his nail. 

The flame grew, and Jack positively  _ danced _ with the fire, swallowing it, swirling it, twirling like an ember flying up from a campfire. 

He showered sparks onto the stage and let the little white hot snowflakes land in his hair, smiling all the while in the same way Sarah smiled, like he was fully and completely himself, and he knew it. 

The show ended with Miss Medda stepping onstage in a stunning gold feathered outfit, singing with the most beautiful voice David had ever heard, and then turning into a beautiful little meadowlark and flying away, to the cheers of all the children, both in the audience and onstage. 

"Wow!" Les chirped, clapping enthusiastically and bouncing in his seat. 

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

Crutchie smiled, stretching his leg and winding a little key on his ankle to make it tick and whirr again. 

"It was a good way to make money years ago, with our show. Me, Mush, Boots, and Smalls can't really perform, cause it's kinda obvious it's not a trick," He explained, tapping at his leg with a little "ting!" sound . 

"People see a tiny tiny girl, and they can't pretend it's an illusion anymore."

That accounted for almost everyone. 

"What about Spot?" David asked. The boy was nowhere to be seen, and everyone else was either onstage or in the audience. 

Crutchie's face shifted a bit, looking awkward. 

"Spot doesn't like the show, says it's humiliating. Don't tell him I said that."

David nodded, pretending like he understood, even though he didn't. 

Spot's peculiarity seemed pretty much the same as Finch's; he turned into a cat. 

Probably he was shy and didn't want to admit it.  The boy seemed to be very proud, and more than a little bit of a grouch. Besides, who had ever heard of a circus cat? Cats doing tricks would probably require real, genuine magic. 

"David, Les! What did you think?"

Sarah hopped down off the stage and made her way to the little cluster of children, trailed by Jack, who was still smoking faintly. 

"Sarah! That was the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Les shouted, hopping off his chair and running to hug his sister.

"It was amazing," David agreed. 

Sarah beamed with happiness, reaching for David's hand with the one that wasn't holding onto Jack.

"Let's go back upstairs to join the others for dinner." Jack suggested. 

"Doing that show always gives me an appetite."


	12. If u dont like Jarah, probably dont read this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, and this is just straight up fluff because I love them♡♡♡

Jack held Sarah's hand, happy as a clam. Were clams really that happy? A clam was basically a rock, but with a blob inside. They didn’t seem exceptionally happy to Jack, but maybe they were. 

Happier than a kitty-cat like Spotty-Spot, that was for sure. 

Yes, Jack was happier than Spot, (not that it was hard) and probably happier than any sentient aquatic rock thing could ever be. Maybe even happier than Tumbler, who was usually pretty happy to be doing anything at all. 

_ This _ was a perfect day. The weather was just right, they got to perform The Show, and after dinner, him and Sarah were planning to head to the park, just the two of them, and watch the sunset. 

It had been way too long since they had done anything like that, Jack realized. He should start planning more fun things to do with Sarah, or she might forget that he loved her more than anything else in the world. 

Dinner was special tonight, since Medda liked to make a big event of their performance days. Specs and Buttons, who both loved cooking, had gone all out with a nice roasted chicken, along with veggies, mashed potatoes, and of course, bread rolls, Buttons’ specialty. 

Jack slipped a few rolls into his pocket for later, something nice for him and Sarah to share tonight. Sarah gave him a little smile from across the table, nudging his foot with hers.

“Miss Medda, can Jack and I go for a walk?”

Medda smiled; she’d hardly ever refuse Sarah anything, the girl asked for so little. 

“Of course. Be safe, both of you. Try to be back before the changeover.”

Jack pushed back his chair and followed Sarah down and outside into the still-warm air. 

Sarah’s face lit up with just a bit of mischief, and she took his hand, breaking into a run.

“Come on, Jack! Let’s go!”

Sarah laughed as they ran, joy and life flowing from her in the same way flowers sprouted up from the cracks in the cobble any place her bare feet touched. 

Jack had never loved anyone more. 

* * *

Sarah leaned on Jack's arm, watching the sun set over the trees in the park. 

The red and orange and yellow made her think of Jack and his fire dance, the swirling colors and bright light dimming gradually into the night. 

Sarah sighed in contentment.

"I love this park. I wish it were bigger."

Natural spaces were really the best places, in Sarah's opinion. Places she could grow things that wouldn't be trampled or suffocated, places with bees and butterflies and worms to nurture the soil. 

Cities weren't ideal, but this park was an island of green, of life. Sarah loved it. 

“Someday we’ll find someplace with more green,” Jack promised. 

“There’s a loop in Santa Fe. Miss Vireo’s loop. I’ve heard it’s beautiful.” His voice was dreamy, staring off into the sunset. 

Sarah snuggled into his arms, just a bit closer. 

“I think right here is pretty beautiful. Why rush to go someplace else?”

Jack was always talking about leaving, finding a different loop, exploring the world. It just wasn’t possible, and they both knew it. Sarah could leave, if she really wanted to, but Jack would fade to dust if he left the loop for too long.

“Sarah,” Jack’s voice was soft, and sadder than it had been just a moment ago. 

“You don’t have to stay tied to me. You can go, find someplace new. Someplace...not here.”

Sarah kissed him on the cheek. 

“I’m never going anywhere you can’t follow me. You’re stuck with me,” she teased, and Jack smiled, which had been the whole point, really. 

Sarah pressed one palm into the ground, focusing intently. 

This soil wasn't quite right for what she wanted, but it would do. 

A little red and yellow flower sprouted between her fingers, daisylike, small from growing in soil that didn't suit it, but still beautiful. 

Firewheel, a flower from New Mexico. 

It was hers and Jack's special flower, it meant  _ them. _ Flowers, fire, joy. 

She plucked the pretty round flower and put it in Jack's hair, and he laughed, making little sparks dance in the air, flicking out just before they touched Sarah's cheeks. 

Sarah had never loved anyone more.   
  



	13. Help im starting to ship something i didnt even plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've seriously caused myself problems from the very beginning, due largely to the fact that I really wasn't planning on HOW i was going to get the real action to start.  
> to be fair, the real book has a pretty gradual start before the Main Plot happens, so im gonna say i did it on purpose to stay true to the original. totally not because im not sure what to do next. certainly not. 
> 
> Im trying to write Miss Medda as more than the box of Mom Person she's so often forced into, so let me know what you think!

David wandered the theater aimlessly. He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself, since Sarah was out with Jack, and Les was causing chaos with Racetrack and the younger kids. 

“Hello there, David. Did you enjoy the show?”

David jumped at the sound of Medda’s voice right above him.

He looked up to see the woman standing at the railing at the top of the stairs, looking just as stunning in her sleep clothes as she had onstage in her shimmering feathered outfit. 

“Oh! Yes, hi Miss Medda. It was amazing. I don’t think Les is going to stop talking about Jack’s fire tricks for a very long time.”

Medda smiled, swirling her way down the stairs like a feather on a gentle breeze. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, David. You’re undeniably peculiar, I can feel it. Your soul practically radiates with it. Are you  _ certain  _ you have no idea what your peculiarity might be?”

David hesitated, taking in the seriousness in Miss Medda’s eyes. He thought back to when Sarah had first started sprouting flowers with every step, back in middle school. How she’d gotten in trouble at school for accidentally growing her history teacher’s little desk plant into an enormous flowering bush. 

The men who’d come to school after that, stared at Sarah, watching from a distance. The janitor nobody recognized, the substitute who always stood a bit too close to David’s sister for his liking. 

And the Thing David had seen outside their window, the night before Miss Medda came for his sister. 

Horrible, empty eyes, so many thick, viney tongues, strong as an athlete’s limbs and so, so horrendously bulbous. 

He must have blocked out the memory, David realized. Or maybe it hadn’t been him at all, maybe it had been ymbryne mind magic, like the children had told him. Medda meddled with his memories, making him forget that horrible night. 

“The monsters,” David whispered. 

“It saw me, and it ran. You know about them too, don’t you?”

Medda nodded. 

“Hollows, we mentioned them briefly when you first came. If you can see them, I can’t imagine the wights will like hearing about you.”

David shuddered, wondering how much Mr. Pulitzer, their neighbor, had found out about him. Surely he didn’t know, if David didn’t even know?

“What do we do?” David asked, suddenly very afraid of what his presence might mean for his new friends. 

“You stay, of course. Like I said, hollows cannot enter our loops, so you will be safe here. You, your brother, your sister. That’s the purpose of the loops.”

  
Medda’s certainty gave David a little boost of confidence, knowing somebody who actually knew what was going on was in charge. 

“Could you do me a favor, dear?” David nodded, because of course, he already knew he’d do anything for Miss Medda.

“ Go up into the attic and see about getting Katherine to come down. She’s probably typing away like a bat from hell, that girl.”

She smiled in affectionate exasperation. 

“Just up those stairs. Be careful once you're up. Katherine won’t be pleased if you crush one of her spiders.”

* * *

Katherine was indeed working herself into a tizzy in the attic. Injustice was everywhere, not just in the world of Normals, and peculiardom didn’t have a surplus of journalists to write about it. 

In fact, Katherine might very well be the only one, for all she knew. 

She had a few photos hanging above her desk for inspiration. Photos of peculiars selling their talents for profit, peculiars being exploited, abused, imprisoned, killed. 

Peculiars everywhere needed to know. She had to tell them. 

Katherine stared at her page in the all-too-familiar despair. It just wasn’t right! Nobody would care if she wrote it like  _ that. _

She tore out the page and started again. 

A yellow and black tiger spider crouched on her wrist, rubbing her palps together thoughtfully as she watched Katherine’s fingers click away on the typewriter keys.

To add to an already upsetting situation of not knowing what to write, Katherine’s typewriter decided that it too hated her, and wanted to make things as difficult as possible. 

She sighed, reaching to unstick the slider. 

“Miss Medda’s looking for you.”

“Oh!” Katherine jerked her hands in a way that could have very easily ended in disaster for both the spider and the typewriter. 

“David! Don’t scare me like that!”

She looked in dismay at her typewriter, now horribly jammed with paper.

“What are you writing?”

David looked genuinely curious, not like he just asked to be polite.

“I’m  _ trying  _ to write about the injustices and struggles peculiars face all around the world. But my  _ stupid, useless brain  _ won’t work properly.”

Katherine slapped a hand on her desk to emphasize the point.

David stepped forward to get a closer look at her many discarded pages, a tribute to her failures. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask Jack to burn those for me, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

David picked up a page, eyes skimming the words. He read so fast, it was almost frightening how quickly his eyes devoured word after word.

“It’s not bad. I think you’re focusing too big.”

He picked up one of the photos tacked to the wall. A little boy, crouched in a cage. His empty eyes stared vacantly into the camera, and he seemed determined to curl as far back into the thin layer of filthy straw as possible. 

It was probably the worst image Katherine had ever seen, and David looked suitably disgusted. 

“You’re trying to talk about everything, but maybe you should focus on just one. Start small, let it resonate.”

He shrugged. 

“Or at least, that’s what I’d do. But you probably know better than me.”

Katherine shook her head thoughtfully. 

“It’s worth a shot. Nothing else has worked out, might as well try.”

She unjammed her paper and inserted another, nice fresh sheet.

“Shouldn’t you go see what Miss Medda wanted?”

Katherine waved off David’s mission.

“Bird can wait. She just wants me to get fresh air, I heard it from the spiders down in the kitchen. Well, don’t just stand there.”

She gestured to a chair next to her. 

“Sit, help me out. It’d be good for me to have another opinion.”


	14. In which : I make up my own ymbryne blessing, because they should have one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of violence, mentioned death (not an established character), gore, but nothing is described in detail.

Hollows weren’t supposed to be able to enter loops. Wights, sure, and that was enough of a problem on its own. But not hollowgast. 

And yet, the signs all pointed to hollows. 

Signs starting that morning, when little Tumbler came stumbling into the theater, one lead-filled shoe missing so he was half walking, half hopping, trying not to float away without half the weight he needed.

“Miss Medda! Finch! Help!”

Jack caught Tumbler before he could tumble his way down the staircase. 

“What’s wrong, Tumbler? Where’s your shoe?”

Tumbler clung to Jack’s arm, panting.

“Lost it runnin’. Jack, somethin’ real bad’s happened. Tommy’s got eaten!”

The little boy was trembling, face white and eyes wide. 

“Race, go get Skittery,” Jack ordered. Skittery was the best with the littles out of anybody, except _maybe_ Miss Medda. 

Race ran off, leaving Jack to try and soothe poor little Tumbler. 

“Who’s Tommy?”

Tumbler was one of the few peculiars who bothered making friends with normals. The friendly little boy had no problem with the fact that anyone he talked to would forget all about him when the loop reset. He cheerfully said it just meant he didn’t have to worry so much if he hurt their feelings by accident. 

“Tommy’s the milkman. He’s got eaten! All tore up and horrid!”

Tumbler looked like he was going to fall over, so Jack sat him down on the big squishy couch, even though it didn’t really matter. Tumbler couldn’t fall on the floor, he’d fall to the ceiling. 

“What’s wrong?”

Thank goodness, Finch had heard the commotion and come to investigate. She really was becoming more and more like Miss Medda every day, Jack though absently, mostly still focused on Tumbler. 

Jack rubbed Tumbler’s little shoulders, trying to calm the shaking boy. 

“One of his normal friends died in the loop,” Jack said softly. It wasn’t a nice truth, but there wasn’t anything they could do to change it. If someone died, they died. Nobody could change the past, even if that same day happened over and over again. 

“Tommy _never_ dies!” Tumbler sobbed. Apparently Jack wasn’t as quiet as he’d thought. 

“I talk to him _every day!_ ” 

Well, that was weird. People didn’t usually die unless the peculiars did something wrong, and Jack was absolutely certain none of the kids around here would just go around eating folks for the fun of it. 

Though he didn’t know Sarah’s brothers that well, surely they weren’t man-eating monsters. Anyone related to Sarah couldn’t be like… that. 

Finch frowned in concern, tapping a finger on the wall thoughtfully.

“I’ll go find Miss Medda. Maybe she’ll know something about it.”

Jack did _not_ like seeing Finch look nervous. Finch was supposed to know what was going on all the time, and if she didn’t that meant something was probably really wrong.

Tumbler was still crying, but thankfully, Race was back with Skittery. The sturdy boy scooped Tumbler into his lap, speaking softly and trying to calm his sobs. 

“It’s okay, Tumbler. Tommy’ll be right as rain as soon as the loop resets. Just got into an accident today, that’s all.”

Tumbler sniffled, and Jack sat on the couch next to the two. 

He flickered some sparks in between his hands, hoping to distract the boy with sparkles and light.

Tumbler gave a watery smile and snuggled deeper into Skittery’s arms. 

“An’ Miss Medda’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” Jack said, with much more certainty than he actually felt. Miss Medda would be able to fix things, right? She could always fix any problem. Always. 

What they would do if she couldn’t, Jack had no idea. 

* * *

Miss Medda’s theater was officially on lockdown, a big sign reading “Closed for Maintenance” hanging over the door.

_Hollowgast._

The word alone was enough to make Finch shudder. 

“How did a hollow get in the loop?” She asked softly, taking care that none of the others would hear her through the closed door. This was a matter for ymbrynes, even just half-trained ones. 

“I don’t know, Finch. I’ve sent word to the council; hopefully we’ll get a response soon.”

Miss Medda’s eyes were clouded with worry, which wasn’t something Finch was accustomed to. Medda could be serious, of course, but she always seemed to have a smile on her face and a calm certainty in everything about her. 

Seeing her like this, frightened and trying to hide it, well, Finch certainly did not like it. 

The two, teacher and apprentice, sat in Medda’s dressing room, which doubled as an office for ymbryne business simply because it was private, and any strange objects Medda chose to keep around would be dismissed as props. 

Finch hopped from her perch on the countertop (she was birdlike even in human form sometimes) and started to pace. 

“What do we do until then?”

“Lock up,” Medda said grimly. 

“Nobody leaves the theater until further notice. Get everyone to close and latch all the shutters, and tell them I’ll be down in a moment to explain everything else.”

Finch nodded, heading for the door, but hesitated just before leaving. 

“Miss Medda?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you think…”

Finch felt awful even _thinking_ it…

“Do you think Sarah’s brothers might have something to do with it?”  
  


Medda shook her head. 

“I don’t know, Finch. My instincts say no, but we can’t rule out anything just yet.”

She looked at Finch seriously. 

“Don’t tell anyone about these suspicions. The last thing we need is the children to start doubting one another.”

“Fly safe, Miss Medda.”

“Fly safe, Finch my dear.”


	15. I am having a very bad day!!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeetus skeetus i hate everything im gonna go be sad now.

David stared out the window, eyes scanning the dark, empty street below. 

He had to keep watch, no matter what. He was the only one who would even have a chance at seeing a Hollow before it was too late.

_They’s only visible when they’s eatin’. And then, it’s too late. Cause usually, they’s eatin’ you._

Mush’s words echoed in David’s mind, a terrifying mantra reminding him to stay vigilant, never let his eyes shut for more than an instant, lest he nod off for one crucial moment and doom all his new friends. 

“David, you need sleep too.”

Medda’s gentle voice over his shoulder snapped David from what was almost a trance. He couldn’t sleep. If he slept, no one could really keep watch. He had to stay awake. But his eyes were so heavy. Les had gone to bed hours ago, despite all of his protests that he wanted to stay up with David. Even Sarah had trouble convincing him when he got like that.

Thank goodness for Skittery, whose peculiar power David suspected wasn’t so much his superhuman strength, but the innate skill he had with all the young children. 

What was David doing? Miss Medda was talking again, wasn’t she. Why was she underwater?

 _No._ David was _not_ going to fall asleep. Not now. 

“Darling, you’re nearly asleep on your feet as it is. Come, rest. We’ll be fine for a few hours.” She gently guided David away from the window. 

“You can’t possibly see anything out there now, and the theater is all locked up. I promise. It’s going to be fine.”

David sighed. She was right. The street was entirely too dark; by the time he saw anything outside, it’d be right on top of them already.

Miss Medda nudged David through the heavy curtained door and latched the real, sturdy wooden door. David hadn’t even noticed the door until just now, with the curtains and beads covering it. 

It was beautiful, David thought, staring at the light reflecting off the shimmering cords. Beautiful, but wasn’t much of a defense. The thick, dark door behind them was the defense… David wasn’t much by way of a defense. He couldn’t…

“Here, now. Rest. Things will look better in the morning.”

David curled up next to Les in the bed, which was strange, considering Les was supposed to be sleeping in the same room with Tumbler, per his own insistence. 

The last time David remembered Les sleeping in his bed was shortly after Sarah left. 

The boy was a tangle of limbs, all elbows and knees everywhere. As soon as David lay next to him, Les snuggled close.

Les was counting on him. Sarah was counting on him. Everyone here was counting on him. David wouldn’t fail them. 

* * *

Smalls crept along the edge of the wall, ready to jump into action at any moment. She really shouldn’t be up and about, not after a day like today. But how was a girl to sleep at a time like this? Hollows were no joke, and Smalls didn’t like all the secrecy between Finch and Miss Medda.

Finch usually told Smalls everything. 

Well, this time, it was up to Smalls to figure things out for herself. 

She held out one hand in the darkness, feeling along the wall as a guide. One disadvantage to being on the small side was the fact that they didn’t make candles in your size, unfortunately.

Miss Medda had gotten a letter from Miss Avocet just this evening after dinner, and Smalls intended to find out what it said. 

No worrying about creaky floorboards for Smalls; she wouldn’t make any more creaks than a mouse. 

Speaking of mice, Smalls gave a quiet little whistle out into the darkness. She couldn’t climb all the way up the stairs by herself, not if she wanted to get to Miss Medda’s room before morning. 

Sarah had declared all of the mice in the theater off limits to Spot, much to his annoyance, but he wasn’t about to argue with Sarah. 

Thank goodness, because the soft brown mouse who now scurried to Smalls’ side was much better and much faster at climbing than Smalls could ever hope to be. 

“Hello, Jeffrey,” she greeted the fluffy creature. 

Smalls and Sarah were the only ones who could tell the mice apart.

“Want to help me up?” she pointed to the stairs, just in case Jeffrey didn’t understand. Jeffrey was a nice mouse, but not the brightest. 

Smalls climbed onto his back, careful not to tug at his tender, soft ears. 

Jeffrey skittered up the stairs at an impressive speed, nearly as fast as Finch could probably fly.

One advantage to being on the small side was that you could grab a ride on most anything, or anyone. 

Smalls loved the feeling of wind in her hair, going so fast up the stairs. It was just like flying with Finch. 

“Thanks, Jeffrey,” she said, sliding off his back and giving him a pat on the nose. 

Now for the difficult part. 

_Finding_ the letter. 

Smalls slipped through the crack in the door easily, thank goodness, because it was much too heavy for her to open it. 

If she were Medda, where would she keep a letter from another important ymbryne?

The desk, probably. 

Smalls sighed. How was she meant to get all the way up there? 

The miniature girl glanced around for some kind of assistant, and her eyes caught the long drapery just beside the desk. It would be a risk, of course. She’d have to climb up above the desk, then jump to the side nearly six inches; quite a distance when you’re only three inches tall. 

If she missed, that would be a Splatted Smalls Pancake for Miss Medda to wake up to in the morning. 

Smalls shook the unpleasant thought from her head and started to climb. The fabric was just right for climbing, with lots of little sequins to grab hold of and stick her toes through. After a lifetime spent riding around in pockets and on shoulders, Smalls was no stranger to heights, but knowing there was nobody to catch her if she fell _was_ a bit of a stressful thought, she had to admit. 

Well, she was already nearly to the edge of the desk now, so turning back would just be silly. 

Smalls got a full seven inches above the surface of the desk before turning around, ready to jump. What would be the best way to cushion the fall? 

Papers? Certainly not the quill pile, that was pointy. A glass of tea would surely make a splash, and alert the sleeping Miss Medda. Besides, Smalls didn’t want to get her nightclothes all stained. 

_Aha!_

A hat. A lovely velvet one that would do just nicely to catch a tiny girl diving from the curtains above. 

Before she could change her mind, Smalls jumped. For that moment, she wondered if this was how Finch felt when she flew. Just air and wind and nothing else.

It was a nice moment, and Smalls reflected that she might have to do that again sometime, just for fun. 

But right now, she had a mission to attend to.


	16. Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going a bit away from the original Miss Peregrine's story, for obvious reasons, since the american loops aren't supposed to have ymbrynes.  
> I also like writing Smalls and Spot being buddies, so here they are.  
> Please let me know what you think of this chapter; I don't know what to write if I don't get feedback!

Spot watched Smalls creep along the hallway, claws itching with the feline instinct to chase after the tiny creature right in front of him.

He resisted the urge, of course. Smalls was his friend, not prey. Even if she, along with Sarah, banned him from catching any mice in the theater. At this rate, they’d be overrun by rodents soon, Spot was sure of it. Mice bred entirely too fast to keep from killing them. 

Spot shook the thought of mice from his head and back to Smalls. 

What was she even doing up and about so late at night? With the exception of Spot, all of Miss Medda's wards kept relatively normal sleep schedules, waking in the morning and going to bed at night. 

Well, except, apparently, David, who had seemed entirely too determined to stay up all night and all day forever until the hollow situation was figured out. 

It was like he thought the rest of them were completely helpless, Spot thought with an irritated twitch of the ear. 

Just because they couldn't _see_ the hollows like he could didn't mean they were just a bunch of sitting ducks. Ducks... Spot hated ducks. Stupid water birds, couldn't even chase them...

Smalls. That was what he was doing. Too many distractions muddling up his mind in cat form, Spot thought, annoyed. And he couldn't switch back unless he wanted to be standing around without any clothes in the middle of the hall. 

Spot twitched his tail and slunk after Smalls, ready to see what the miniature girl was up to. There was far too much weirdness going on right now. 

He watched, fascinated, as she climbed up the thick drapes in Medda’s bedroom, took a flying leap onto the desk, and started shifting around all the papers, knick knacks, and stuff Spot was pretty sure was important ymbryne stuff that Smalls should probably not be touching. That being said, if Miss Medda didn’t want anybody touching her things, maybe she shouldn’t leave them out in the open. 

Spot slid along the wall, grateful for how well his dark coat blended into the shadows. He hopped silently from the floor to the desk chair to the desk itself, landing directly behind Smalls. 

She squeaked in surprise, then stood, hands on her hips, looking entirely too fierce considering he could probably squish her even just by accident. 

“Spot. Come help me,” she whispered. 

“I _know_ you want to know what Miss Avocet said just as much as me. So help me find that letter.”

Spot couldn’t talk in cat form, so he swished his tail at the pile of notes and envelopes on the edge of the desk. 

“I can’t open them,” Smalls explained.

Spot rolled his eyes. _Miss Medda would have_ opened _the letter, Smalls._

He ran one claw through the pile, flipping away anything sealed with his nose. 

_There._

He swished his tail gently against Smalls’ head, careful not to send her flying off the desk.

“This is it! Spot, help me!” Smalls ordered, as if she was the boss of Spot or something. Still he wanted to know what was in that letter, so he helped her unfold the paper. 

Smalls crouched over the note, running her teeny tiny hands along the neat print that was unmistakably Miss Avocet’s writing. 

“My dear Medda.... Increase in wight activity in the UK… loops falling like shedded feathers…” Smalls’ voice cracked. “Miss Avocet is the only one left in all of Britain? That _can’t_ be true. It can’t!”

Spot’s fur bristled. That certainly wasn’t good, not good at all. 

Smalls read on. 

“Sisters of America, you may be the only thing standing between the enemy and victory. Stay vigilant, dearest Medda. I shall write again the moment I have more news.”

Spot realized as Smalls read that his ears had started flattening down to his head. He twitched them upright, twisting to be sure nobody was coming to catch them sneaking around Medda’s personal items. 

“Spot, what do we do?” 

Smalls normally was bossy and confident, but right now, she sounded very very small. 

Spot wrapped his tail around her waist, trying to be supportive. Supportive was hard when you’re literally a cat, but Smalls seemed comforted, running her hands into his fur, which was absolutely not soft _or_ fluffy. Spot was not fluffy. 

“Can I climb on your back? I’d rather not break all my bones jumping onto the floor.”

Spot crouched to let her scramble up his shoulders, tiny hands gripping his fur tight. Spot waited until Smalls was settled, then hopped down to the ground in one leap. 

They needed to tell everyone about their discovery, that much was sure. 

Spot looked around, finally spotting a spider, dancing her way up the leg of Miss Medda’s bed. 

Smalls’ mind clearly went the same way Spot’s did, because she slid down his back and poked the little arachnid with more gentleness than Smalls usually displayed. 

“Excuse me, miss. Could you send a word to Katherine?” Spot could have sworn he saw the spider nod, but that wasn’t possible; spiders don’t nod. 

“Tell her to wake the others and meet us in the attic.”

The hairy little thing skittered away with much more purpose than the average spider was known for, and Spot flicked his tail, urging Smalls back onto his shoulders. 

He didn’t feel like taking nine years to get up all the stairs into the attic, thank you very much. 


	17. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cliff Hanger, hanging from a cliff! And that's why he's called Cliff Hanger!  
> "Cant... hold... on... much... longer!!!" 
> 
> Did any of u all watch Between the Lions???

The oldest few out of Miss Medda's group of wards huddled in a little circle up in the attic. The only light was Jack's open palm, soft flames glowing and flickering in the otherwise pitch dark room. 

Combining darkness and a generally somber and gloomy mood and the whole place just felt eerie, in Katherine's opinion. She leaned against one of the sturdy wooden beams that held up the theater roof and waited to see if anyone would speak first. 

It looked like she was going to have to take charge once again, if even _Jack_ was being quiet. Normally he never stopped talking. 

"What's our plan?" 

That was a good start to this meeting anyways. 

Katherine saw Specs' pencil tap against his notepad, ready to start listing any thoughts and plans. 

"What are we going to do?" His voice came from the space a few inches above the pad, as he hunched close to Jack's flame. 

"What _can_ we do?" Buttons asked, fiddling with the scraps he was currently stitching together. 

"If the ymbrynes say wait and see, shouldn't we do as they say?"

Katherine's first instinct was to agree, but a nervous little _something_ prodded the back of her mind like an annoyingly persistent breeze against a spiderweb. 

Jack voiced the thoughts just before Katherine could. 

"If hollows are able to enter the loops, we can't afford to just wait around. It's not safe." 

Spot, now in human form and wrapped in a toga made out of a tangled heap of bedsheets (which looked very silly but nobody was stupid enough to mention it), twitched his ears in agreement. 

"We can't just wait around and hope the Bird can keep us safe for this one."

Spot's typical cynicism would normally be met by an argument at least from Jack, but even he seemed to be in agreement in this case. 

(Even if he did look like a mischievous kitten who'd just brought all the curtains down on his fuzzy little head.)

"So what do we do?" Sarah half-whispered, leaning closer to Jack's little flame, eyes glowing with a strangely serious spark, absolutely determined yet still so much more innocent than the rest of them. 

Katherine sometimes forgot how new Sarah was, she fit in so well with the group. 

It was easy to feel like Sarah had never been to the world of automobiles and cellular phones and tiny music machines that the girl said was all she _really_ missed about home. 

Well, missed most besides family, of course. Sarah always cared about her family, both the birth and chosen ones.

"David's already wearing himself out just acting as lookout, and the rest of us don't have a chance without him."

All eyes immediately turned to David, and Katherine felt a stab of pity for the boy, who now looked mildly ill. 

This was a lot of pressure, especially for someone who'd only just learned they were peculiar. 

"I can keep watching," David insisted, almost as if he didn't feel the obvious exhaustion leaving dark crescents under his eyes. Katherine's pity turned into admiration. Maybe David was made of stronger stuff than she'd thought. 

"We have to stick together," Racetrack said, rolling his dice absently in one hand with a thoughtful click-clack. 

"Ideally close to Davey, on account of he can actually see the hollows. And also with someone who can fight if they need to. Look out for wights, cause if a hollow's around, more 'n likely a wight is too."

Specs' pencil scribbled away in the dim light. Katherine thought absently that he couldn't be doing his eyesight any favors by writing in such poor conditions. 

Skittery hadn't said anything so far, but now added his own thoughts to the list, of course concerning the younger children who weren't present. 

"We've got to look out for the littles. Don't let them go anywhere alone."

That was easier said than done, Katherine reflected. 

Tumbler had a mischievous streak to him, and Boots didn't really take kindly to being bossed around. Fair enough, since he was twelve and thus not _really_ to be considered among the littles. 

Skittery tended to mother hen the younger children, and everyone knew that the only reason he didn't consider Spot one of the littles was because, at fifteen, Spot flat out refused to allow himself to be fussed over by anyone. 

"I can post a teddy guard at every window," Buttons suggested. 

"They won't be able to see, but we'll know if a hollow gets inside. It'll give us some warning, at least."

Katherine watched as Specs scribbled that idea on his notepad, eager to have more preparations to ease everyone's nervousness. 

She couldn't help but wonder if any of this would work. If all the loops in Britain had already fallen…

Her thoughts were interrupted by David making an awful retching sound, surprising everyone. 

"That's disgusting," Spot commented, looking, well, disgusted, as if he wasn't personally responsible for hacking up hairballs all over the place whenever he shedded coats. 

Jack's light flickered a bit at a sudden breeze from the window. 

Had it been open before? Katherine was sure they'd shut it. 

She got up to close it (wouldn't help anybody if they all got colds) but stopped short. 

That smell, that unmistakably rancid stink. 

_Hollows_. 

David screamed, and everything went to absolute hell in less than an instant. 


	18. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains some violence, so be warned of that

Just seconds before everything flipped absolutely upside down, David felt a little twinge in his stomach, a warning that he didn't know to recognize. It was immediately followed by an intense, centralized pain, like he’d been punched, probably by a giant robot or something, judging by just how much it hurt. 

He nearly threw up at the sudden wave of nausea, but thankfully, nothing came up. 

He looked up, ready to apologize, but instead, his blood froze in fear. 

_Hollow._ It was _right there._ How had he not noticed it before now?

Someone was screaming. It was David, wasn’t it?

The hollow slunk through the open window, tongues waving like seaweed in calm water. 

David’s own tongue felt stuck in his throat, but he managed to choke out the word “hollow”, immediately sending everyone into a panic.

Spot’s body convulsed, and was replaced by a thin black cat, fur spiked and tail thrashing. 

“Don’t go down the ladder,” David squawked out, stopping the other children from rushing _towards_ danger. The hollow was way too close to the ladder for that escape to be anything resembling a good idea. 

"What do we do, David?"

 _What?_ Why was Katherine asking _him?_

David didn't know what to do. He was the only one who could see the monster, but he'd never fought ANYTHING before. Not even another human being. He'd wrestled with Les, but that was entirely different. 

This was life or death, and if he didn't act fast…

The hollow reached one long tongue towards the huddled group. 

"David?" Sarah's voice trembled just the tiniest bit. 

"Where is it?"

The fear in his sister's voice snapped David out of his near-trance. 

"Jack, get your fire ready," David hissed out. 

The hollow was toying with them, taking it's time to inch closer, flicking those horrible fleshy tongues into the air like an awful, disfigured snake. Would it have been any less terrifying if it just got it over with? At least this way they had a chance to fight...

Jack pressed his hands together, focusing until his palms glowed white-hot. 

"By the mirror," David whispered to Jack. Thank goodness the attic was so cluttered; it seemed to be slowing the grotesque creature, at least a little bit. 

Jack spread his hands apart, and David held up a hand to stop him. The creature was ready for a fight. He needed to wait for it to be distracted. 

The hollow reached a tongue closer and closer, now almost touching Skittery's leg. 

"Now."

Fire burst from Jack's hands in an explosion of light and heat. He hit random spots, aiming at an enemy he couldn't see.

"By Skittery!" David screamed, grabbing Jack's arms and directing the boy's hands, not caring that he was scorching his own palms with the closeness. A direct hit, and the hollow shrieked in such agonizingly painful screams that David almost felt bad for it. Almost. 

Jack was screaming too, and someone was yelling at him to "push harder, Jack. Just a little harder, you can do it!" And David realized it was him who was shouting. 

But Jack couldn't hold on forever. He had his limits, and the hollow could last longer. 

It was still alive. Weak and injured, but now really blocking the ladder to the main theater. 

David stared at the horrible, scorched lump, it's gruesome chest rising and falling just a tiny bit, enough that he didn't want to risk slipping past. 

“Is it dead?” Mush’s voice trembled just a tiny bit, clearly trying to hide his fear. 

David shook his head. 

“It’s still breathing.”

“We’ll have to use the window,” Sarah said, her voice somehow steady in spite of everything. 

David started inching slowly towards the open window, leading the way to what they could only hope would be safety. 

The hollow shifted, and David froze. 

Jack looked exhausted; they couldn’t fight it again, not yet. 

David made a split second decision, grabbing the person behind him and shoving them towards the window.

“Get out, hurry.” It was Mush he’d grabbed, and the boy nearly fell in surprise. 

“It’s moving, hurry up!” David urged, trying not to let his panic show. 

Skittery was the last one out, but he stopped before climbing through the window. 

“Where’s Smalls?”

 _Shoot._ David scanned the room and saw the tiny girl, on the other side of the hollow. She was trying to sneak past, and so far had gone unnoticed. 

“Skittery, start helping the others down. I’ll wait for her.” 

They’d have to follow behind, but hopefully David and Smalls would have a chance, assuming the others didn’t back up their escape downwards. 

The older boy looked like he wanted to argue, but the hollow started to stand, shifting some of the charred wood from the walls around. They did _not_ have time for this discussion. 

“ _Go!”_ David hissed, and Skittery squeezed his large, muscular form through the window. 

Now he could focus on the task at hand. Smalls was nearly to relative safety, still creeping like a mouse along the wall. 

David almost thought she’d make it, when the hollow’s head turned, horrible black eyes trained on the tiny little girl. 

She didn't have a chance. 

The horrible fleshy tongue darted towards her, much quicker than before. 

She screamed as it grabbed her around the waist, an invisible (to her) force grabbing and lifting and dragging her...

David didn't realize he was moving until he was already there. He grabbed the closest thing to him to use as a weapon, a broken-off chunk of wood from the roof beams. 

The hollow turned to face him, and David nearly froze, but he shook the fear away. Hesitation meant death, both for him and for Smalls.

It dropped Smalls, focusing instead on the bigger, armed threat. Smalls scurried away, and was scooped up by a flash of black fur. David thanked the stars for Spot; now that the girl was safe, he only had to worry about surviving. 

But that was easier said than done.


	19. I promise I didnt abandon this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, after like 10 days!  
> Yeah I dont have a reason, just kinda happened that I didnt write for a while there. 
> 
> TW for violence

"David!"

Sarah's scream tore through the cloud of exhaustion muddying Jack's mind. He'd never pushed himself quite that hard before, and it looked like he had finally discovered a limit to his peculiar ability. 

He shook the fog away, trying desperately to think clearly. Skittery was holding Sarah back, which for a moment made Jack angry enough that he nearly caught the roof shingles on fire without even thinking. 

But then some part of his brain that was still functioning started kicking and pounding at all the other parts, trying to gain control of his stupid, tired body. 

_ There's a hollow in there, stupid. Get everyone off the damn roof. _

But Davey… he couldn't fight it alone, could he? 

Sarah certainly didn't think so. 

She pulled away from Skittery, nearly shoving the boy off the roof in the process, and darted back to the window.

That made Jack's decision for him right away; he couldn't let Sarah go back in there alone, no matter how tired he might be. 

"Katherine, get everyone down off the roof," he managed to gasp out, shaking his hands to get them ready for more fire. 

She nodded, taking control quickly and with much more efficiency than Jack would have been capable of. 

"Everyone, follow me. Hold on to Skittery if you need, but hurry. We've got to get the littles out."

Confident that the rest of the group was in good hands, and frankly much better off than Jack was probably going to be in about three seconds, he scrambled through the window and back into the attic. 

It was so dark; where were Sarah and David? 

Jack couldn't waste his fire on just a light, not now when he was so tired.

They must have been keeping quiet, he thought to himself. 

Very quiet. Much quieter than two living, breathing people would be, surely. 

_ No. Don't think like that. They're fine. Sarah's smart; Davey can see the hollow. They're fine. _

They had to be fine. Jack was already attached to David, and Sarah… the mere thought of losing her was too much to think about. 

Jack decided to risk just a tiny flame, so they would know where he was. 

Really, it was more of an ember, just the tiniest little glow. It should not have been a problem by any means. 

And yet, suddenly, Jack was being squeezed, grabbed and swung into the air, almost certainly catching bits of the roof on fire by accident. 

Someone was screaming, probably Jack. 

"Jack! Jack, no!"

No, that wasn't Jack; Jack wouldn't be screaming his own name. 

He was already so tired, and now he could barely breathe… maybe he should just let it be. 

"David, where is it? David, it has Jack!"

_ Sarah _ . 

Jack tried to focus, listening to her voice, but it was fuzzy and muffled, his head hurt so much from exhaustion even before this new development of a damn  _ tentacle tongue _ constricting around his chest and neck. 

Smoke was starting to form, too. Probably from something Jack had done…

Screaming...somebody was screaming and it sure as hell wasn't Jack; he didn't have nearly enough energy to scream like that. 

The hollow was playing with him, he could tell that easily. It could just eat him right now, but no. The horrible beast had to have it's fun first. 

Why wasn't it concerned by the flames licking up the curtains directly behind it? Or maybe not directly. Jack didn't know where the stupid thing was. Could have been halfway to Brooklyn for all he knew, if it weren't for the fact that it currently had him by the neck. 

Jack was a fly in a spiderweb, stuck and unable to fight.

Fight. He had to fight back. Or at least  _ try _ to _. _

Jack wrapped his hands weakly around the horrible invisible tongue gripping his throat, the bumpy flesh rubbing painfully along his bare skin. 

It didn't take much heat for the creature to drop him in a heap, just a sudden, hot flash to surprise it, thank goodness. 

But now Jack was well and truly spent. He didn't have anything left. 

"Jack! Move!"

David's shout tore away at the curtain fogging up Jack's mind, and he struggled to his feet, swaying unsteadily, but staggering towards Sarah. 

She'd grown her potted plants well beyond their normal size, a tangle of thorns and branches and bright flowers that shouldn't have looked nearly as powerful as they did. 

Jack collapsed at her feet, gasping. 

"Jack." Sarah crouched, one hand on Jack's side, the other stuck deep into a large clay pot housing a now enormous rose plant. 

"Sarah. Where is it?" Jack choked out, rubbing his now very sore throat.

The thorns surrounding them couldn't keep such a monster away for long. 

He could hear the hollow breathing, could smell the death-stink that wafted off of its grotesque being. 

"David?"

The other boy held a broken off wood chunk in both hands like a bat, staring at what, to Jack and Sarah's eyes, appeared to be absolutely nothing. 

David screamed, Sarah tightened the thorns and branches around them, and Jack prepared himself to die at the hands and many tongues of an invisible enemy. 

  
  
  



	20. Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love college, dont get me wrong. Having classes I actually LIKE and look forward to??? I love it!  
> But I'm very busy and I wish I had more time to write :(  
> This is why I probably shouldn't have three fics going on at once, but whatever. 
> 
> Is anyone still reading this??? Idk. Feels like not.   
> S/o to the person who commented on last chapter whose name is escaping me right now, you're the best and made me so happy!!!

David was doing his absolute best not to panic. He reminded himself that if he did panic, he'd lose focus and then they'd all die. 

This reminder did not help with the panic situation at all whatsoever. 

The hollow was just… watching them now. Jack was free from it's hideous, sinewy tongues, but surely the boy was spent by now. He couldn't possibly have any fire left in him, right? 

David watched as the hollow started to creep towards them, looking a good deal more cautious now that it realized they were going to put up a fight. 

"David?" Sarah's plants were tightening around them, thorns extending more and more as a weak defense. 

"Is it…" she trailed off. 

"It's watching us. I think… I think it's _thinking._ "

Jack made a sound that sort of resembled a scoff. 

"Hollows don't _think._ Do they?" He didn't sound sure, which wasn't something David, completely new to the world of peculiardom, wanted to hear. 

"This one looks like it does." David tightened his grip on his makeshift weapon, waiting for the hollow to make the first move.

 _No._ He couldn't wait for it to move, David realized with a terrifying jolt. 

The hollow was bigger, stronger, faster, and in every way more equipped for fighting than David could ever hope to be. 

He had to surprise it, and that realization sickened him. 

David had never been known as a particularly surprising person. He did everything according to a system, and that system never changed, not ever. 

But he’d mixed up the system plenty these past few days, David realized, trying to loosen his body up in preparation for moving. 

Might as well start being even more surprising. 

“Sarah, when I move, get Jack out the window and close the exit with branches, just in case.”

_In case it kills me, so you can run._

David left the last part unsaid, but clearly his sister was thinking it too. 

“You won’t be able to run if I do that,” she protested, helping the clearly exhausted Jack up onto his feet. 

“I’ll go down the ladder once it’s dead,” David said, trying to sound sure of himself. He wasn’t sure at all. This was one hundred percent a suicide mission, but he had to get Sarah and the others to safety. He could distract the hollow and _maybe_ have a chance of survival. Unable to see their enemy, anyone else would be nothing more than bait. 

Sarah still looked unsure, probably because she’d been able to see through David’s lies for their entire lives. 

“Sarah, please,” David whispered as the hollow crept closer and closer. 

“I can’t fight it if I’m worried about you and Jack.”  
 _Nevermind the fact that I haven’t won a fight against a human being my own age or anything. Or even really tried to fight them._

David’s history of utter pacifism was very much causing him problems right now. 

“I can...help,” Jack tried to stand, but wound up leaning back into Sarah’s shoulder. 

“No, you can’t,” Sarah said firmly, backing towards the window. 

“David, I swear, if you die, I _will_ kill you.” 

David tried to smile, really, he did, but it came out much more like a grimace. 

He turned all of his focus onto the hollow, which still was just… staring at them. It had stopped moving completely, empty eyes looking blankly into David’s face. 

A few tongues hung limply, scorched by Jack’s flames and thankfully seemed to be useless, but there was still a thick, writhing tangle left. 

The tongues started moving towards Sarah and Jack, and David knew he had to act fast, while it was distracted by what it thought to be easier prey. 

Before he could change his mind, David found himself running full-speed at the hollow. Probably not the most tactically sound plan, but it was all he had time to come up with. 

The hollow, to David’s credit, did seem pretty surprised by the sudden and probably very stupid plan of attack. Surprised enough that David was able to whack one of its tongues away from Sarah and Jack, and daze it with a second blow to the top of its ugly head. 

The creature screeched at him in rage, tongues now headed for David himself. 

He didn’t check to see if Sarah had gotten Jack out the window, and just focused on surviving. He had to survive, David realized with sudden panic. The rest of the peculiar children _couldn’t see the hollows._

What if there were more? They’d be sitting ducks. 

David had to get back to his new friends. 

He gripped his “weapon” tight, having absolutely no idea what to do anymore. The hollow, however, did have an idea of what to do, unfortunately. 

It used one strong tongue to knock David’s weapon away easily, leaving him essentially helpless. 

David was backed into a corner, literally. He was up against Sarah’s plant wall, massive thorns as long as his forearms blocking any escape. 

The hollow lunged in for the kill, finally fed up with the game of cat-and-mouse, and David was certain he was going to die. 

He didn’t want to die without fighting. He could at least weaken it more, maybe give the next person a chance. 

David felt like his brain had switched off. He grabbed one of Sarah’s thorns, which snapped off in his hand. The hollow was right on top of him, and David wondered if this was what a fish thought when a shark came after them. 

Small, helpless, staring into big, empty eyes… 

Eyes. 

If you’re attacked by a shark, go for the eyes. 

David plunged the thick, sturdy thorn into the hollow’s left eye, causing the worst screech of pain and fury he’d ever heard, like nails on a chalkboard and a dying animal and whistling bombs in the air all amplified not in volume, but simply in horror. 

But then, all of a sudden, it stopped. 

The creature slumped on top of David, its stench nearly as suffocating as the weight suddenly pressing down on his chest. 

He shoved it off and wriggled away, just in case it was some kind of trick. It twitched once, but then was still. 

The boy flopped down on the wooden floor, suddenly feeling all of the exhaustion he must have been blocking out. He didn’t feel nauseous, most likely because the hollow was dead. Did that mean there were no more nearby? 

David certainly hoped so. 

He thought absently that he should probably head outside and let everyone know he was alive, but he felt so numb. 

David had never killed _anything_ before. 

He always took spiders outside, and would never _think_ to use a mousetrap. 

This creature, this _monster_ had been alive, but now, because of David, it just...wasn’t anymore. David forced himself to stand and walk around the… _obstacle_ by the ladder. He couldn’t think of it as a body or corpse, he just _couldn’t._

David climbed carefully down the ladder, hoping with everything he had that the rest of the theater was okay. 


	21. Splintering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writers block is a b*tch.  
> I took entirely too long to write this cause I literally had no idea what to say.  
> Hopefully I'll get a little more momentum soon and the chapters will come a bit faster from now on.

David slipped down the hallway as quietly as possible, praying that there were no more hollows hiding around every corner. 

He had to find the younger kids, the ones who hadn't been in the attic with them. 

Les, Tumbler, and Boots were all hopefully safe in their beds, protected by Finch and Miss Medda. 

Hopefully. 

David didn't even want to _think_ about the possibility of something happening to Les. He _couldn't_ think it. He refused. 

Why did the youngest children's bedrooms have to be so far from the stairs? David did _not_ want to be trapped up here with whatever enemies might be lurking around, and the thought of leading four frightened children in an escape out the window made him absolutely nauseous. 

David felt his stomach drop when he reached the final set of doors in the hallway. The rooms Les and the other littler kids slept were wide open. 

Open and empty. 

David bit down on his fist to keep from screaming at the sight of his brother's empty bed. 

Les _had to_ be okay. He had to. 

_There's no blood. No blood. He's alive. You'd know if he wasn't._

David's mind argued back _for how long? Maybe by now he's dead somewhere else._

_Shut up! Shut up shut up shut UP!_

Arguing with his own brain. David was really starting to lose his mind, wasn't he?

And then a different voice intruded on David's thoughts. 

_David! David, come help us!_

"Les!" He shouted it into the empty room, so overjoyed by even the _thought_ of hearing his baby brother's voice, alive and safe. 

_Basement. Come help._

Les' thought-voice was fading in and out, a sure sign that he was struggling to keep "talking". David only hoped it wasn't because he was hurt. 

He rushed down the stairs, so many stairs in this damn building, until finally making it to the creepy storage basement. 

David tried the door, but it was locked.

He cursed and kicked at the door, and was greeted by a chorus of small voices, overwhelmingly topped by the unmistakable and very loud shout from Les. 

"David! You can't say _that_!"

Well, if Les felt up to scolding his brother, surely he wasn't _too_ upset, David thought with a smile. 

"Are you all in there? Everyone's okay?”

“Yeah, but Tumbler can’t get off the ceiling cause he’s crying too much.” 

“I am n-n-not!” Tumbler declared from somewhere around the top of the door. _Sure_ , he wasn’t crying. Definitely not. 

David tried to force his mind to think sarcasm, but he couldn’t come close to making light of the situation. 

“Alright, I’ll…” he looked around the stairway. There wasn’t any way to get in there that David could see. 

“Will you guys be okay if I run and get help?” 

David didn’t want to scare the kids too much, but he definitely needed someone else to help get the door open. 

“We’re fine,” Boots called through the door. David was suddenly very grateful that the twelve year old was considered one of the “littles”. No way could Les handle being locked in the basement alone with Tumbler; they’d both be sobbing without Boots. 

“Just hurry before Tumbler hiccups himself to death.”

* * *

Spot twitched his ears, annoyed with the breeze tickling the delicate hairs all over. He appreciated the added balance of cat form out on the roof, but now that they were crouched in the alleyway, just waiting to see if David was dead or not, he felt distinctly like a scruffy old stray.

Sarah’s pacing wasn’t exactly helping his mood, and Spot desperately wanted to change to human form just to tell the girl to calm down. 

If not for the fact that then he’d be naked in an alleyway, Spot would have certainly done it, but as it was, that seemed like a very bad idea given the circumstances. 

Instead, he twitched his whiskers and crouched into Crutchie’s side, curling to keep his tail away from everybody’s stamping, clumsy feet. 

“David!” Sarah’s scream jolted everyone to attention, all ready to run, fight, or more likely die. Thank goodness it was David, not somebody who could cause problems. 

Although if he’d survived a fight with a hollow, then maybe David was tougher than Spot had given him credit for…

Spot surveyed the group, taking a mental tally of everyone they had. 

At the moment, Sarah and David were clinging to each other, Skittery was practically carrying Jack, and he could smell Specs somewhere nearby. 

Mush’s hands kept changing colors, from silver to bronze to gold, a sure sign that he was extremely on edge. He couldn’t even grab Blink’s hand when he got like this; just had to hug himself pathetically. 

Katherine had Smalls in the palm of her hand, thank goodness, since Spot’s fur was starting to smart from Smalls’ tiny hands gripping him so tight. 

He desperately wanted to curl up someplace warm and take a short catnap, and it looked like just about everyone else wanted that too, but they couldn’t just yet. 

Apparently David didn’t even know how to pick a damned lock. 

Spot thrashed his tail and stalked out of the alley. 

He had to start everything around here. 

* * *

The basement door was locked tight, but Jack Kelly wasn't one to let rational thought stand between him and his family.

He looked skeptically at the sturdy wooden door. 

“Don’t know if I can burn it without bringin’ down the whole theater on our heads,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone in particular. 

The fact that he was almost entirely relying on Skittery to stay standing was irrelevant; if they needed Jack to burn the door, he’d burn the door, no matter how tired he got. 

“You aren’t doing that,” Skittery said firmly, passing Jack over to Sarah like a sack of potatoes. 

“I’ve got it.”

The boy knocked on the locked basement door. 

“Tumbler? Boots? Les? I need you to get away from the door. I’ve got to break it down.”

Jack could hear a scramble from the other side, and then a little voice (Tumbler) half-sob, “Hurry up, Skitty!”

Skittery took a few steps back, and then rammed into the door. It splintered, but not enough. 

Skittery sighed. 

“Miss Medda really did have to get a good, sturdy door, didn’t she?”

He slammed it again, and Jack could have sworn the entire building shook at the impact. 

Skittery rubbed his shoulder for a moment, then stepped halfway down the hall. 

“Stay out of the way,” he warned, right before taking a running start and ramming his entire bulk into the door. 

That was enough for even the sturdiest of wood. Splinters and wood chunks flew all directions, and an approximately Skittery-sized hole was left in the miraculously still closed door. 

“Oh Tumbler, let's get you down,” Skittery crooned gently, reaching up to tug the little boy from the ceiling. 

Finally they were all together. Or at least, almost. 

There was a very very significant pair of peculiars missing, the two ymbrynes, who really would have been the most ideal people to have with them right now. 

Mush was the first one to voice the question everyone was afraid to ask. 

“Now what?”

Now what indeed?


	22. Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of spiders in this chapter, nothing violent or horrible happens involving them, but if you don't like spiders, there will be a lot, cause Katherine talks to them.

“Now what?”

Mush’s question was truly the one everyone wanted to ask, huddled and frightened in the basement of the theater, their _home._ Invaded, destroyed… Sarah was suddenly struck by just how lucky they were to have come out relatively undamaged, with everyone accounted for. 

Well, almost everyone. There were two very large, distinctly bird-shaped holes in the group, and everyone could clearly feel the absence. 

“We find Medda and Finch,” Jack declared, voice much more confident than his barely-standing position would have led one to believe. Sarah wrapped one arm around his waist, half in support, half to prop him up. 

Poor Jack had exhausted himself far beyond what she had ever seen before, and it was clearly taking its toll. 

“Let’s split up. Race, go with…” Jack swayed and trailed off, nearly taking Sarah off her feet as he collapsed into her arms. 

“Alright, we’re not doing this right now,” Katherine declared, cementing her place as one of Sarah’s favorite people ever the moment she took charge. 

“I’ll call some spiders in. They can tell us what’s going on without anyone wandering around blindly into a hollow’s nest.”

The bedraggled little group gave a collective shudder at the thought of _multiple_ hollows in the same place. 

Sarah slid Jack down to the floor and settled him against her side. They might as well get some rest while Katherine scouted ahead. Who knew when the next time they might be this safe would be?

* * *

David watched in a strange, entranced mixture of awe and horror as Katherine really and truly utilized her peculiarity. 

He had never seen so many spiders all in one place, certainly never seen a person allow such a number of spiders to crawl across their arms and neck and presumably every other part of her body. 

“Getting the recent news,” Katherine had called it before settling down amongst dozens, if not hundreds of arachnids. 

“She really talks to them?” 

In spite of everything, for some reason this was the one thing David couldn’t quite get his mind to comprehend. 

Racetrack nodded, hardly looking up from the intricately complex card game he was playing all by himself. 

Apparently Katherine’s little spider convention wasn’t unusual enough to warrant interrupting Racetrack’s game, yet David couldn’t tear his eyes away from the strange and somewhat creepy sight. 

Katherine just...sat there, looking intently at individual spiders, nodding and wiggling her fingers occasionally as the little creatures milled around like a terrifyingly alive carpet. 

David shook himself out of his confused and slightly disgusted awe. He had to keep watch. Even Spot, who seemed determined to guard the entrance to the basement, had no chance against an enemy he couldn’t see. 

The boy had finally gotten back into human form, having pulled his clothes from what David could only assume was thin air. 

Spot still had cat ears, which twitched and swivelled at every small noise. David absently found himself wondering if Spot ever went fully human, or if he always had cat features. 

Was he a boy who turned cat, or a cat who turned boy? 

How odd… shouldn’t ask, though. He’d get his eyes clawed out, surely. 

His eyes felt so heavy, speaking of eyes…

_No._

David couldn’t fall asleep; he had to keep watch. The others were relying on him, even if they didn’t want to admit it, like Spot. 

“David, you should get some rest.”

Skittery’s voice made David jump, nearly knocking a barrel of who knows what all over the floor. The heavily muscled boy sat against the wall, Les, Boots, and by some miracle, Tumbler, cuddled against him. How Tumbler managed to snuggle with someone while hovering about six inches above the floor, David wasn’t sure, but that was older-brother-Skittery physics for you.

“You’re no use to anyone dead tired. We’re safe here for now, or as safe as we can be.”

David sighed, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I know. You’re right.”

He leaned back against the sturdy wooden beam holding up the doorframe, letting himself slide to the floor. 

All of a sudden, the exhaustion really set in, and David truly couldn’t keep his eyes open. Whoever he was leaning on, he’d have to apologize later. For now… for now, he was sleeping. 

Even Spot’s anxious pacing couldn’t keep David awake.

* * *

Katherine swallowed the heavy lump in her throat, dreading the announcement she had to make. Best to get it over quickly.

“They’re gone. Medda and Finch.”

Not one person responded. Everyone just stared at her, and Katherine hated it. 

“The wights have them. They’re alive, but…” Katherine tried to still the tremors in her voice, to no avail. 

  
“But who knows for how long,” Spot finished, thrashing his tail from side to side. 

“We’ve got to get them back!” Mush said, hands flashing a stunning shade of rose-gold. 

“Oh, sure, let’s just go do that,” Spot hissed, baring his teeth. “Easy, right? Let’s just ask _nicely_.”

Katherine wanted nothing more than to pull poor Mush into a hug, he looked so hurt, but at the moment, that would get her turned into a metal statue, and be of no help to anybody. 

“We won’t ask nicely,” snapped a voice that could only belong to Specs. Katherine was certain she’d never heard him so angry in all the centuries they had been friends. 

“They stole our ymbryne’s, so we steal ‘em back.”

His glasses pushed their way up his invisible nose. 

“Steal ‘em back or die trying.”


	23. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw : seizure, mention of blood.
> 
> Basicalllllyyyyy I'm fighting myself inwardly to have any motivation at all, but today was a good day so here is a chapter.   
> Also thank u to everyone who has ever commented on here cause you're the only reason I can keep writing.

Had someone asked David Jacobs only last month what he thought he would be doing on that particular day in the future, he would have probably said "studying" or "watching Les". 

He certainly would never have thought to say "following a cat-boy down an alleyway in 1899 New York in search of two bird-women who'd been kidnapped by soul eating monsters for nefarious purposes," but here he was, doing just that. 

Frankly, he'd much rather be studying. 

Studying was  _ usually _ a bit less life or death, in David's experience, except possibly in Advanced Chemistry, the most difficult class he'd ever been foolish or unlucky enough to take. 

But this wasn't chemistry, and failure was worth a good bit more than just a letter grade. 

Even with his enhanced, almost eerily fine-tuned senses, Spot seemed a bit lost, wandering around such a big city with such a small objective. 

"I don't know," he admitted when they came to yet another dead end. Why did Manhattan have so many alleyways leading nowhere?

Surely it wasn't like this in Les and David's time?

"I feel like I can smell them," Spot began, lashing his tail irritably. "But it's faint, and comes and goes." 

That made sense. The city had a very strong smell to it, and David couldn't possibly blame Spot for being unable to pick the scent of two small birds from all the dirt and people and animals all crammed into such a crowded space. 

He twitched one ear to the left. 

"Maybe that way?"

David didn't like how unsure the boy sounded, not about something so important. 

"Blink."

Sarah's soft voice surprised everyone; she'd just silently helped Jack along for most of their wandering.

"Do you think you could…"

The boy sighed, and David realized suddenly that he didn't actually know what Blink's peculiarity was. 

"I can certainly  _ try _ , I guess."

He flipped up his eyepatch to reveal… a normal eye. 

David wanted to ask, but something about everyone else's reactions told him to stay quiet for now. 

Blink's eye visibly adjusted to the sudden change in light, and then rolled back in his head. He sat down on the ground, almost collapsing, really. 

Mush sat beside him and gripped one of Blink's hands tight.

"Do you see them?" 

Racetrack's urging was shushed quickly by Boots clamping a hand over the older boy's mouth. The two briefly started to scuffle, but Katherine was quick to snuff the argument out. 

"Hush, you two. Blink needs quiet."

Suddenly Blink started to twitch, just a little bit at first, but rising in intensity until his entire body was wracked with spasms. Mush gripped his head to keep it from whacking against the harsh cobbled floor of the alleyway, and it almost seemed as if Blink was being torn apart from the inside. 

David couldn't watch. 

He looked instead at Smalls, nestled in Sarah's breast pocket. She was basically asleep, but so clearly trying not to look it. 

The tiny girl was absolutely exhausted, and anybody could see that. She was more even than Jack, who was hardly standing anymore. 

How Sarah had dragged him this far was a miracle, and frankly, David hoped their next destination would be somewhere close by. 

They really needed to rest, David thought, glancing around at everyone else. Les was starting to lag, as was Boots, the two half-carried by Skittery. 

Tumbler bobbed like a balloon behind the older boy, having kicked off his shoes to float up by a rope, his toes almost touching Skittery's battered grey cap. 

David hoped nobody saw them; it'd be hard to explain why Skittery had a human balloon tied around his waist. 

Or why Jack looked like he was about to drop dead, or David was caked in dried, black blood. 

This would all be so impossible to explain to anybody… normal. 

Finally, after what felt like hours but was at most a few minutes, Blink's seizing relented. 

David looked back, and was greeted by an almost more heartbreaking scene of just a trembling boy, clinging to Mush for dear life. 

He didn't know Blink well, but seeing the other boy look like…  _ that _ felt like a stab to David's core. 

"I-I know…" he swallowed hard enough that David could practically  _ hear _ it. 

"I know where they are."

Somehow, David couldn't imagine it was a good place, judging by the look on Blink's face. 

"They took them to Brooklyn."


	24. Brooklyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing is hard  
> College is hard  
> My heart hurts  
> My mental health is down very low  
> Here's some newsies as an attempt to feel less garbage.

The walk to Brooklyn took entirely too long for Specs' taste, considering they probably had a whole horde of wights right on their tails. It didn't help that Spot refused to act like a proper cat, and kept attracting attention by acting most un-cat-like, namely, trailing Crutchie and glaring at everyone else. 

Specs couldn't even scold him, because a voice coming from thin air would draw even more attention than a cat reading a newspaper when they stopped to let Jack rest. 

And that was another concern. Jack was barely standing at this point, and Sarah couldn't carry him forever. Could she really even carry him across the bridge? It didn't look like it, and a group of tired, some bloody kids were starting to draw stares from passersby. 

"Sarah," Specs whispered, slipping up beside them. The group had stopped to rest, almost entirely for Jack's sake. He didn't look good at all, half asleep with his head resting in Sarah's lap. 

Sarah jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice, and Specs cursed his peculiarity making things so difficult right now. 

"Let Skittery take him." He nudged the muscular boy with one invisible leg. 

"You're tiring yourself out." 

Sarah gave a little sigh, running one hand through Jack's hair.

"Maybe we should just wait here. I doubt we'll be much help, not right now." 

She gestured to Jack, eyes closed and painful sounding breaths just a bit too close together. 

Spot slipped up beside them and batted at Jack with one paw. Specs swatted him away in annoyance. 

"Oh, shoo! You're being a nuisance, Spot. Cut it out. Stupid fleabag." 

Spot hissed at the last muttered remark and stalked off to sit with Crutchie as the boy wound his leg up again. 

Specs looked around at the rest of the group. 

They were all tired, but splitting up wasn't an option with wights possibly right behind them. 

"We've got to stick together. What if more hollows come up, and you're stranded here, without David?" 

Sarah nodded, shifting to help Jack to his feet. The boy mumbled a half-protest, but he got up onto unsteady, trembling legs. 

This was _not_ good. Fatigue was normal after such an incredible strain, but not to this extent. Jack should be able to walk, if a bit slower than usual. 

The peculiar children needed their ymbrynes back as soon as was humanly, bird-ly or cat-ly possible.

* * *

Finally they struggled into Brooklyn territory, everyone carrying everyone else like a game of pickup sticks. If one of them fell, they'd all go down. 

Specs really hoped nobody went down. 

"Where to now, Blink?"

Thank goodness for David, being at least kind of willing to take charge. 

Blink squeezed his non-peculiar eye shut in concentration before deciding. 

"The docks. They're going to the docks. His eye popped open, wide with panicked realization. 

"They're going on a boat! They'll take the birds away!" 

"Not our birds!" Little Tumbler started to cry, Skittery trying to soothe him before some nosy old busybody started asking questions. 

"We'd better hurry, then." Specs hissed, hoping no onlookers could hear his voice. 

Spot flicked his tail in agreement, leading the way down the cobblestone streets. 

They followed the cat, because what else was a group of peculiar children, lost and with no ymbryne in sight to do?

* * *

When they reached the docks, Specs began to wonder if they'd taken on an impossible mission. How were they meant to find two relatively small birds in such a crowded, chaotic place?

Men shouted orders, curses, and just general noisiness from the docks and moored boats, tossing ropes, barrels, crates, sacks, and anything else imaginable. 

"How are we going to find Miss Medda and Finch _here?_ " Katherine asked, voicing what everyone was thinking. 

A scruffy little dog yapped at Spot, and he climbed up Skittery's broad shoulders to escape, hissing and spitting all the while. 

"You're looking for Snyder," a little voice stated. They were faced by a boy of about seven, with freckled cheeks and carrot-red hair. 

He glared at them. 

"I'm Spike, and you's on _my_ turf."


	25. Spike, Spot, Specs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing is hard and I forgot about this story for like 2 weeks, oops. Yee yee that's how it be.

David shouldn't have been surprised by anything at this point, but being stared down by a kid who looked to be about seven, and having the entire group of peculiars have absolutely no idea what to do, well, that was surprising. 

He sighed. Why did he have to talk to _everyone_? He didn't even belong in this time! 

"Would you mind letting us pass?" David asked politely, trying very hard not to laugh at the scowl on this little freckled speck's tiny, babyish face. 

Spike glared at him, and David was once again surprised, this time because he was actually feeling nervous. Scared of a kid hardly half his size, way to go, David. Real hero material. Miss Medda and Finch would probably be better off asking a seagull for help. 

"Why should we help you?" Spike demanded, crossing his little arms. 

"We don't want trouble from the Spider."

"The Spider?" Instinctively, David looked at Katherine, who shrugged, clearly as confused as he was.

"Warden Snyder," Spike explained. "We stay out of his business, and he don't cause us no trouble."

"We aren't asking for help," Specs spoke up, making the little boy jump. 

"We just want to pass through."

"Who said that?" Spike growled, tugging a slingshot out of the waistband of his baggy trousers. 

He brandished the weapon in Specs' general direction, but of course, couldn't possibly know exactly where to aim. 

"I'm Specs, and I'm invisible."

Specs said it as if that was something that made perfect sense, which of course, it wasn't, but Spike seemed to accept the explanation.

"You're invisible." It wasn't a question, but David still felt compelled to answer him. 

"We're... peculiar," he explained. 

Spike nodded sagely. "I figured that." He gestured for them to follow him. 

"Come on. I'll help you if you help me."

David wasn't sure exactly what they were agreeing to help with, but it wasn't like they had much of a choice, did they?

They'd just have to figure this out one step at a time, and hope nothing _too_ horrible came of it.

* * *

Specs crept along beside Spot, the only two who could easily spy without risk of arousing suspicion. 

Nobody would think to question a stray cat wandering along the docks, and Specs, of course, just had to stay quiet and not get stepped on. 

Two men stood on the edge of the pier, with a pair of caged birds between them. Medda and Finch, packed so tightly that they could scarcely _move_. Specs felt his blood boil, and it took everything in him not to run out and grab at the ymbrynes right then and there. They most likely only had one shot at this, and rushing in with no plan would be like throwing that shot, and Miss Medda and Finch, away with carelessness. 

The men stood aimlessly, and must have been waiting for a boat. Specs couldn't decide if that was a good thing. 

On the one hand, if they were waiting around, that meant the men were staying put, which gave the peculiar children time to work out a plan. 

On the other hand, if that plan took too long, then the men would leave on a boat to who knew where, taking the ymbrynes along with them.

That could not happen, absolutely not. 

Specs wouldn't allow it. 

He rolled his shoulders, enjoying the sunshine in an attempt to keep some semblance of positivity. 

Clothes were a hassle, especially when you had nothing to cover up, being invisible. 

The fact that Miss Medda would scold him for wandering about in the nude was normally a source of annoyance for Specs, but right now, all he wanted was for her to come and order him to "go put some clothes on, Specs."

Spot flicked his tail against Specs' leg, startling him out of his thoughts with a jolt. 

Spot gave him the kind of judgemental look that only a cat could give, as if he actually _saw_ Specs jump out of his invisible skin. 

"Alright," he whispered. "Let's go back to the others." 

Spot twitched his tail in annoyance, looking back to the men holding their birds captive. 

A low growl came from Spot's furry little chest, and he started off _towards_ the two almost-definitely-wights. 

" _Spot!"_ Specs hissed, but he was ignored. 

He sighed. Calling to Spot would do no good, and somebody might hear him. 

Specs ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

Best to just go be backup.


	26. Can Kitty Swim?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for violence and animal cruelty, though all the animals are also people... so maybe its just violence??

Cat form had its benefits, Spot decided as he wove down the crowded pier, completely ignoring the fact that Specs did not want him to do that. 

The main benefit to cat form, aside from being able to squeeze pretty much wherever he chose, was that nobody bothered to question _why_ he was where he'd ended up. 

A cat wandering the docks? Well, must be some stray. A cat in the theater? It keeps the mice away, don't it? 

Most of the time, he could slip in and out of any situation without anyone giving a moment's thought, and this was no exception. 

The pair of men had a cage between them, and that probably attracted more attention than Spot _ever_ would. He was just a stray cat; they were two men with songbirds, not common on the pier. They'd have attracted attention even without the birds. One was at least six feet tall, with hair down to his shoulders, and the other was short, bulky, and utterly hairless. An odd pair, even without the screeching, thrashing birds. 

Spot crept up beside them, followed by Specs and his softly tapping bare feet that hopefully the wights wouldn't hear. 

He mewled in a most undignified way, sounding exactly like a pitiful little kitty who wanted attention. 

"Beat it, cat." The man with the cage, the hairy, skinny one, nudged at Spot with his heavy boot. 

Spot huffed, as an ordinary cat would if a man didn't stroke it. Internally, he was quite grateful to not have a wight's filthy, murderous hands over his fur. 

It took _time_ getting his coat just right, thank you _very_ much, Jack! No need to have anybody messing it up.

Not to be deterred from his plan, and hoping that Specs understood, Spot moved to become a bigger distraction. 

_Swipe the cage, stupid_ , he wanted to hiss, but of course, Specs wouldn't understand it if he did. 

"Get lost, stupid cat." The man's boot connected with Spot's ribcage much harder this time, sending him sprawling. 

"Toss him in the harbor," suggested the bald one, laughing like that was a hilarious joke. Spot tried to move away, but his body didn't work. The gigantic beanpole man grabbed Spot by the tail and lifted him into the air. He screeched in pain at that, squirming and thrashing to escape.

"Can the kitty swim?" He laughed as Spot tried to claw at his hands.

As if by a sudden gust of wind, the man's legs were swept out from under him, sending the cage crashing to the ground. Spot gasped and got to his paws, grabbing the opportunity to wriggle away while he still could. 

The world spun, which tended to happen when you were dangled upside down and then dropped directly on your head.

 _Cats always land on their feet, my foot,_ Spot groaned to himself. He was just happy the sudden thunk to the head hadn't shocked him back into human form. Naked on the pier with a pair of angry wights would not be ideal. 

He was vaguely aware of Miss Medda and Miss Finch chirping like mad, but he couldn't focus. He had to get away… Spot struggled to his feet, stumbling in whatever direction he was facing. 

Turned out, he was facing the edge of the pier. 

With a splash, he fell in the water. 

"Can the kitty swim?" The wight had asked. 

Unfortunately, no.


	27. First Time For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what direction this is going at all whatsoever.

Specs lunged to grab Spot, but missed by a hair. The little cat made an equally little splash in the water before being swept away by the not-so-little current. Specs had to catch him; Spot couldn't swim! Miss Medda and Miss Finch fluttered into the sky, well above the wights but still close enough that Specs could sort of see them, even in spite of not having his glasses. Well, he saw two blobs of brown and yellow in the sky, at least. And why weren't they changing back? Specs really needed a hand right about now. Wings just didn't cut it sometimes. 

Spot needed help, but if the invisible boy jumped in the water, their cover would be blown. Boy-shaped voids in the water tended to attract all the wrong kinds of attention. 

Well, he'd just have to worry about that as he went, wouldn't he? 

Specs sprinted down the pier, dodging the people who, of course, didn't get out of his way. A dog started to chase along the edge of the pier, apparently having spotted poor Spot, struggling and clawing at the water to stay afloat. 

_No, no, no!_ The last thing they needed was for Spot to get gobbled up by some mangy stray. 

_Why_ wasn't Medda helping? The others were understandable, if annoying. They had to keep hidden, or the wights would be on to them. 

But surely their ymbryne could lend a hand, couldn't she?

Where _was_ she? 

Spot turned to look back, and realized why Medda wasn't helping him. She and Finch were distracting the wights. Had he been given the luxury of time, Specs would have smacked his own forehead at his stupidity. Of course Medda and Finch had a plan! He just had to hurry up and play his part before the wights realized what was going on. 

Specs turned back to his chase, and realized what a terrible mistake turning around was. Spot had floated off along the side of the pier, still chased by the dog, and both were far ahead of him by now. 

Specs couldn't outrun the current, and he couldn't outrun the dog. 

It scrambled down the rocky bank and splashed carefully into the water, where Spot floated limply. 

Surprisingly gently, the dog scooped the little, terrifyingly still lump of fur into its saggy jowls and tugged him onto dry land. 

"Hey, doggy. Good boy," Specs cooed. "Can you drop the kitty for me? What a good boy you are!" 

Spot was placed gently on the ground, and the dog raised one "eyebrow" at him. Specs didn't even know dogs could do that. 

"I don't think that's necessary, do you?" Specs jumped at how intently the dog, who was evidently peculiar, stared at him. "All the "doggy" this and "good boy" that."

He nudged at Spot with his nose. 

"Anyway, best help your friend here."

"You can see me?" Specs hadn't met someone who could see him in… ever.

"Smell you, more like. Now come on." The dog tapped his tail impatiently. 

"I haven't got thumbs, so it's up to you."

Specs had never gotten veterinary advice from a dog before, but he supposed there must be a first time for everything. 

* * *

David crouched in the alleyway, entirely too aware that he was solely responsible for everyone's safety. If he didn't see an approaching hollow in time, they would die, and it was as simple as that. 

He curled his knees up to his chest, focusing on his gut for any feelings that might suggest danger was nearby. 

At least Jack was starting to feel a bit better, so David wouldn't be completely on his own. 

Jack's fire, Sarah's plants, and Skittery's strength did make a pretty formidable team. 

Not much against a hollow…

Lost in thought, David nearly jumped out of his skin at a sudden rush of wind past his face. 

Some lookout _he_ was. What was that? He'd feel awful inside if it was a hollow, so it wasn't that. 

"Miss Medda!" Boots shouted, absolutely ecstatic. 

Sure enough, a little meadowlark was perched on his head. 

"Where's Specs, Miss Medda?" Tumbler hovered excitedly. 

"Specs and Finch and Spot?"

Miss Medda chirped in response, fluttering up down the alleyway. 

"She wants us to follow her," Buttons stated the obvious. 

Skittery got to his feet with a groan. 

"Need a hand, Jack?" Jack shook his head. 

"I'm good. I can walk." 

He grimaced as he spoke, but started walking. 

Wherever Miss Medda was leading, they'd follow. Hopefully she knew where they were going.

* * *

Spot awoke to a _dog_ bending over him, which was quite possibly the worst way to wake up he could possibly think of. 

Spot did not like dogs. 

"Good, you're awake."

Of course, it would be a talking, _peculiar_ dog. Miss Medda was going to expect him to be _polite_ to the dog, wasn't she?

Where was she? 

Spot shook his fur out, sending water droplets flying. 

"Ack! Hey, watch it!" A voice he recognized as Specs whined from somewhere entirely too close to his face. 

Spot ignored the complaint, of course, and took in his surroundings. A churchyard surrounded by high fences and filled with plants. He could smell plenty of prey in here, and his claws itched to go chase some. 

"Loop entrance," the dog explained, as if Spot had asked. 

"We'll just wait for the rest of your group, and I'll show you in."

Spot flicked his tail in annoyance. Of course they were waiting on everyone else. 

He'd really like to change back to human, thank you very much, but right now that would be a bit awkward, considering the whole clothes situation. 

"Medda and Finch got free," Specs commented. Thank goodness, or Spot would have had that fun little near death experience all for nothing. 

A "chirrup!" greeted them from atop the fence. 

"Finch!" Specs called, kicking up dirt so she'd know where he was. 

"Is Miss Medda on her way?"

Finch bobbed her head.

"Everyone with her?" 

Another bob, thank goodness. 

Spot wrapped his tail around his legs. With that worry gone, he could think about other things, like this dog, whose _tongue_ had touched his fur. Disgusting. 

And the dog had a loop. Loops meant ymbrynes, which meant help. 

Spot had never been to any other loops before, but there had to be a first time for everything.


	28. Why did I use so many characters?????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously why did I do this to myself.  
> Why do I have so many characters.  
> I cant remember if I've kept everyone there. Who knows???
> 
> TW : referenced canon era homophobia
> 
> Also I'm dying and have no inspiration for this fic.

"Finch! Finch, stop it!" Boots' voice became impressively shrill. "Finchy's lost it!" Racetrack declared, struggling to keep his grip on the little yellow bird. 

Finch had not been happy to see Miss Medda, and immediately proceeded to try and rip the feathers off of her mentor. Why, none of them knew. 

"Maybe she's mad because Miss Medda didn't keep us safe," Mush suggested, then frowned. "But that doesn't sound like Finch at all."

Racetrack held her out away from his chest. 

"What do we do now?" 

David turned to the rest of the group and did a quick mental count of all the peculiars. Everyone seemed to be there. 

Sarah, holding Jack on his feet and Smalls in her pocket. Spot, still in cat form, crouched between Crutchie's legs. Race, Buttons, and Katherine all sat on the cobbled path, while Les and Boots sat squished together on the little bench. Specs' glasses hovered a few feet away, and, David assumed, the rest of him was attached to them. 

Skittery held Tumbler, who by now was so tired he could barely stay upright, and Mush and Blink stood holding one another, not even trying to be discreet anymore. 

This was 1899. They'd better try and keep that hidden. David felt very sick all of a sudden. He did not like 1899. 

Miss Medda and Finch both remained in bird form, little claws looped in Sarah's hair. 

"Why are they still birds?" Tumbler's voice quivered, and Skittery rubbed his back comfortingly. "They've got to have some reason, right, Jack?" 

Jack nodded, though doing even that seemed to exhaust him. That was worrisome. Jack and his fire was very much their best defense against the hollows, aside from David's ability to see them, and if he wasn't recovering, they'd be all but sitting ducks. 

David sighed, then turned to the dog. Apparently he had to speak for everyone, again. 

"Thank you…" he didn't know the dog's name. 

"Denton," he woofed in a surprisingly human voice. "Bryan Denton of Miss Kestrel's menagerie of the pre-industrial era." 

"Oh, thank goodness," Katherine breathed, struggling to her feet. "Can Miss Kestrel help us?"

Denton's tail dropped. 

"I was hoping you might know where she was." He looked around, now clearly on edge. 

"We'd best be getting into the loop, then. Not safe out here."

The canine led the children down a short path alongside the church. It was a tight squeeze, especially for Skittery, who was all but crashing through thorns most of the way. 

"It's mostly meant for animals, I'm afraid," Denton apologized as the children brushed dirt and leaves from their clothes. 

"But here we are. Come along." 

For a brief moment David wondered if they should really trust this strange dog with all of their lives, but it wasn't like they had any other option, did they?

* * *

The change from one time period to another always made Blink feel a little nauseous. His eye spun in its socket, wanting to find the future when it was now farther in the past. Nothing made much sense, and he was glad to have Mush there to hold onto. 

"Better hurry," Denton called from up ahead.

"We don't want to be followed." 

Easy for him to say; this path through the forest was much more suited for a dog than it was for a group of children. 

"We've got to stop," Katherine called out from the back of the group. 

"Crutchie's leg isn't working right." 

Sure enough, the gears were slowing, creaking and grinding on one another in a way they really shouldn't be. 

"My key fell out, I don't know where." His face was pale and grey with pain and exhaustion. 

"How much farther?" 

If dogs could frown, Blink was sure Denton would have. 

"It's a good trek still." He sniffed at the boy's leg.

"Can the big fellow carry you?"

Skittery shuffled over. "I can try." 

"No, you can't, " Sarah said firmly. "You're nearly falling over yourself, and you'll squish him. I've got this."

She placed a hand on the ground and closed her eyes. 

No matter how many times he saw it, Blink always found himself captivated by Sarah's peculiarity. 

A root twisted it's way up from the ground into her hand, tiny pink flowers speckling its surface.

She lifted the sturdy piece of wood, now grown in the shape of a crutch. 

"Will this do?" 

Crutchie smiled. "Perfect. Thanks, Sarah." 

Crutchie understandably hated being carried, and besides, Skittery probably _couldn't_ manage it with everything else.

 _Damn_ , they were all tired. 

He reached for Mush again and started walking. If he held Mush's hand, he could do this. Blink would do just about anything for Mush. 


End file.
